


Fuck and Run

by 1_800_FRERARD



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Artists Gerard, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Full Moons, Gerard is incREDIBLY self loathing, Guaranteed happy ending, Horrorpunk Frank, M/M, Mutual Pining, New York City, Terrifying Oversexed Angel Gerard, Vegan Frank, Werewolves, cabin in the woods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-17
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-02-17 19:39:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 144,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2320997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1_800_FRERARD/pseuds/1_800_FRERARD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Meaningless hookups are easier than dating when you’re a werewolf. That is, until your brother sets you up on a blind date with someone you’ve already *ahem* ‘seen’ before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Walk of Shame

Gerard bit his lip and took one last glance at the sleeping tattooed form on the bed before silently slipping out of the room.  
He released the breath he’d been holding as he tiptoed his way to the other end of the apartment in search of his coat. He remembered taking it off when they had started kissing on the couch. He picked his shirt up off the floor where it had stayed - crumpled and cold - since the tattooed guy pulled it off of him in their race to get undressed the night before. He slid the tattered white shirt over his head, ignoring the chill it sent down his spine.  
His worn, black wool coat was tossed over a chair beside the couch, just as he had assumed it would be. He pulled the coat over his shoulders, feeling the muscles pull in protest, and did a quick 360, scouring the small room for anything that might belong to him. He didn’t want to leave any evidence of his presence. _That_ was a mistake Gerard never wanted to make with anyone ever again.  
He felt a little twinge of emotion in his chest as glanced over at the misfits record still sitting on the turntable beside the two empty coffee cups.  
He almost wished he hadn’t fucked the guy.  
Not that the sex wasn’t incredible… _It was incredibly incredible._  
They’d just talked a bit more than Gerard usually preferred to when picking someone up. He didn’t mind exactly because Freddie (or Brent? Brandon? Felix? Whatever the guy’s name had been) had been really funny and cool. Gerard could picture himself hanging out with a guy like him and it sucked just a little bit that they’d never see each other again.  
He glanced around at the record collection, the beat-up guitar leaning against the chair in the corner, and the half-assed punk decor - taking it all in one final time - before toeing into his shoes and silently moving towards the door. He made sure to twist the lock on his way out so that the sleeping guy wouldn’t have to face any unwanted intruders.  
Even if Gerard didn’t intend to ever see this guy again... the last thing he needed was a pretty, tattooed **murdered** guy covered in Gerard’s DNA. Not in New York City.   
  
The sun was just coming up over the Manhattan side-street as Gerard headed for the nearest subway entrance. His hips and back and arms hurt in all the right places as he took the walk of shame down the street. His hair felt weighed down from all the product and his cologne had worn off. Needless to say, he felt a little gross, which was to be expected after a night like that.  
He lit a cigarette and tried to remember if the comic store opened at ten... or was it eleven? There was a small amount of satisfaction to be felt, considering that the need to fuck anything that would permit him to had been reduced to a dull roar.  
He caught the train uptown towards his apartment, thinking about a long hot shower, comic releases, and his brunch plans with Mikey.  
  
By the time he got home he’d forgotten all about where he’d woken up and why.  
~  
  
It was a few hours later that Frank woke up.  
He yawned and stretched, feeling his leg muscles protest against the sudden movement. It took him a moment to work through why he was so sore.  
When everything about the hot, wolfish, dark-haired guy he’d brought home the night before came flooding to the front of his mind, he sat up and looked around the room in search of him.  
Only to find that he was alone.  
  
He wasn’t ready to accept disappointment just yet.  
He listened carefully for any signs of movement in his apartment. The gurgling of the coffee maker, the pounding of shower water, even the turning of pages of a magazine. Anything to confirm that the guy hadn’t left in the middle of the night.  
  
All he could hear was the rush of morning traffic outside. He could almost pretend it sounded like a waterfall if it wasn’t for all the car horns and the distant chopping of helicopter blades.  
He slid out of bed and wandered down the hall, shivering against the faint chill of the quiet apartment. No matter how much he spent on heating, the old building had a draft that always breezed through regardless.   
There was no note on the fridge, or on the counter. There was no sign anyone had even gotten a glass of water or anything like that. The apartment was as it always was.  
  
The only things Frank had to remember Gerard by were the slightly disheveled couch cushions, an empty coffee cup and the small purple love-bites littering his shoulder.  
He hadn’t bothered to get Gerard’s last name or his phone number. They had talked for hours before they started kissing but it hadn’t really come up. Frank hadn’t expected him to be gone in the morning.  
There wasn’t really any benefit to finding Gerard now, anyways. Not if the guy had only been looking for sex.  
At least Frank had gotten off. _Holy shit. Gerard had **really** fucking gotten him off..._  
Frank should have known it was too good to be true, if the things Gerard could do with his tongue were anything to go by.  
  
He stared down at the phrase “HOPELESS ROMANTIC” inked into the webbing of his hands and couldn’t help but find the words a little inappropriate and ironic in that moment.


	2. Just A Date

**6 Months Later**  
  
“It’s just a date.” Mikey pointed out, taking a sip of his milkshake. “Just one date.”  
“Exactly! I don’t do dates.” Gerard countered.  
“ _Just one date_ and then you never have to see him again if you don’t want to.”  
Gerard just shot his brother a look as he took a sip of his coffee.  
“Please? You owe me.” Mikey whined.  
“For what?” Gerard shot back. He glanced at his own annoyed expression in the mirror behind Mikey’s head. It was part of what they loved about the diner they were sitting in. The inside of the place was covered in mirrors like an homage to hideous 50s decor.  
“You made me pretend to be your boyfriend for 20 minutes last time we hung out.”  
“I don’t remember that. _At all._ ” Gerard lied.  
“When we ran into that guy you fucked?” Mikey added, a little too loudly for Gerard’s liking. “I totally covered for you, dude! You **owe** me.”  
Mikey flicked a bit of whipped cream in his older brother’s direction. It landed on the sleeve of his black coat, only smearing into the fabric when he tried to wipe it off.  
“Well... I certainly don’t owe you _now_. Look what you did to my coat.” He grumbled.  
“Of course you still owe me. _That. Totally. Sucked._ ” Mikey replied.  
“But why do I have to repay you by going on a date with your lame friend?” Gerard whined.  
“Because! It’s about time you got yourself into back into dating. I haven’t seen you with anyone in like, over two years at least. Maybe three? Do you _want_ to die alone?”  
Gerard just shot his younger brother a warning look.  
“Besides!” Mikey added, quickly changing the subject. “Frank’s not lame and he needs cheering up. And he’s a _dog person_ , Gee. He **likes** **dogs**.”  
“ _Great…_ ” Gerard rolled his eyes, smirking at his brother’s insinuation.  
“He likes all the same bands as you. And he doesn’t care that you don’t drink.” Mikey pleaded.  
“So you already told him all about me, then?”  
“Just the important stuff. He’s really cool and he _really_ wants to meet you!”  
“If you like him so much why don’t _you_ just go on a date with him yourself?” Gerard asked, raising an eyebrow.  
“Because he’s my **coworker!** And anyway he’s not my type. He’s _your_ type. Were you listening to anything I just said?” Mikey complained, shoving the cherry from the top of his milkshake into his mouth.  
“Okay… _**Maybe.**_ ” Gerard supplied. “But you have to tell me more about him first.”  
“What do you want to know? Anything.” Mikey nodded.  
“Well like, why does he need cheering up? And what the fuck makes you think I can cheer him up anyway? I can barely keep _myself_ cheery.”  
“Oh my god. You really weren’t listening to me this whole time.” Mikey sighed. He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. Gerard just blinked at his brother vacantly, taking another sip of his coffee.  
“His apartment flooded. All of his stuff got ruined. Like, his _comic book collection_.” Mikey said, annunciating carefully. “And all of his guitar pedals shorted out. The guy lost all his gear.”  
“Didn’t he have renter’s insurance?” Gerard mused.  
Mikey shot his brother a look and shook his head as if to say _“Don’t be an asshole, asshole.”_  
“Look, I’m sorry but like, aren’t you forgetting something? You didn’t you tell him _what I am,_  did you?” Gerard asked softly, feeling the inevitable twinge of sadness that came along with the constant reminder that he was a freak of nature.  
“Well… _no._ I left that part out obviously. I don’t just go around telling people about that.”  
“So… how do you know he won’t go running and screaming when he finds out? What if I hurt him, Mikey? See! This is why I don’t-”  
“ _It’s just one date.”_ Mikey interrupted. “You don’t have to put a ring on it. _Jesus._ ”  
Mikey sighed dramatically and shoved a few ketchup-logged fries in his mouth. Gerard could see his brother was about to give up on the subject. He didn’t want that. He was just warming up to the idea of going on a date. Like, a _real_ date.  
“Please, Gerard?” Mikey whined in a tiny voice. Gerard could tell he wasn’t going to ask again.  
“Okay? Okay.” Gerard nodded. “Maybe? Yes. Fine, I’ll go on a date with your work-friend...”  
Mikey smiled around his straw as he sipped his milkshake.  
“I knew you’d say yes.” he gloated, “I’ll text him right now.”  
  
_Just one date. That’s all._ Gerard thought to himself as he watched his brother speed-tap the buttons on his phone.  
“So… where should I take him for this _date?_ Can I bring him here?” Gerard asked, feeling out the words.  
“Well here’s the thing…” Mikey said, glancing down at his cheeseburger, fighting a smile, "He's a  _vegan._ "   
_“Mikey!”_ Gerard whined.  
~  
  
Gerard left the diner with a stomachful of anxiety and a phone number scribbled on a napkin in Mikey’s messy handwriting.  
  
Gerard went about his life following one very important rule:  
**“Don’t do anything you wouldn’t tell your brother.”**  
  
Gerard’s brother was extremely open-minded.  
He still loved Gerard when Gerard came out.  
He still loved Gerard when Gerard nose-dived into alcoholism.  
He still loved Gerard when Gerard ended up at the wrong place at the wrong time and was bitten by that werewolf.  
If Gerard was doing something he wouldn’t tell to someone who still loved him through all that then he was probably doing something he shouldn’t be doing.  
  
Mikey knew his older brother liked to sleep around. They’d talked about it plenty. But to Gerard’s disadvantage, feeling slightly ashamed by his habits, he had perhaps _skewed_ the numbers a bit. As far as Mikey knew, it was something Gerard did once or twice a month, when in actuality, it was something Gerard did more like once or twice a week.  
  
Gerard sighed and stared down at the napkin pinned between his icy fingers as he walked down the cold, busy street. Mikey had told Frank that Gerard would be calling him shortly to set up a time and place. He didn’t want to be _rude_ but at the same time, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to give up his lifestyle.  
  
He was terrified he’d actually like Frank and that Frank would like him. He’d have to stop sleeping around. He’d have to disappear on Frank 5 nights out of every 29. In the days before his disappearance his sex drive would be off the fucking charts. He couldn’t even begin to quantify the lies he’d have to tell just to get through the month.  
Nobody deserved the misery that was _dating_ Gerard.  
  
He was also terrified that he’d end up flirting his way into Frank’s pants -  love him, and leave him - just like he always did. He swore to himself that he wasn’t allowed to pull that shit on Mikey’s friend. Mikey wanted Gerard to take Frank on a traditional date. The kind where you call them the next day to see if they had fun and ask for a second date.  
Mikey would _violently_ kill Gerard if it didn’t go down that way.  
  
And here he was getting all caught up in his thoughts, when, as Mikey had pointed out, it was _just a date._  
  
Gerard tapped the number into his phone and pressed the 'call' button before he could give himself any more reasons not to.  
A large truck sped by just after the first ring, making a loud crashing sound as it rolled over a metal grate in the middle of the road. Gerard panicked, realizing a loud busy street wasn’t the best place to call someone to ask them on a date. He also had nothing to write with. Fuck. Gerard usually had way more game than this.  
Before he could hang up, someone on the other line picked up.  
“Hello?”  
“Uh yes… Hi. May I please speak to Frank?”  
“Uh yeah. This is Frank. This is like, my cellphone? So there’s not really anyone else that would answer it.” he chuckled. “Who’s this?”  
“Oh cool. Well uh, this is Gerard Way. _Mikeyway’s_ brother?”  
“Hi Gerard.” Frank said in a singsong voice. He sounded hot.  
Gerard walked past a guy shouting about some news headline, holding a stack of papers in his hand. He cupped his hand around the bottom of his phone to block out the noise.  
“Sorry…It’s really loud where I am. I didn’t really think about where I was before calling you. I don’t normally uh… make calls of this nature.” Gerard confessed, scouring the street for a quiet alleyway to duck into. No dice.  
“Calls of what nature?” Frank asked. It almost sounded like he was mocking Gerard, but he couldn’t tell.  
“Well, Mikey said you and I would uh… get along.” Gerard faltered, cringing at his word choice. “So I thought I’d call and see if you wanted to hang out. We could go for coffee or something?”  
“Like, on a date?” Frank asked.  
“Yes.” Gerard replied, feeling his heart flutter.  
“Cool.” Frank said. “Are you busy now?”  
“Now?” Gerard squeaked, staring down at his less-than-perfect clothing ensemble.   
“Yeah. _Now._ I’m not busy.” He laughed. “Where are you? I’ll come meet you.”  
“Well I kinda wanted to like change and stuff befo-”  
“Don’t!” Frank interrupted. “I look like shit today so it’s totally fine. Don’t dress up for me.”  
Gerard scratched at an ominous looking glob of some dried whitish substance, standing out against his black pant leg. Cream from his morning coffee, maybe? Milkshake he didn't catch Mikey flicking? He tried to remember if he’d eaten anything _white_ at the diner.   
“Okay.” Gerard sighed, running a hand through his hair to give it some tasteful, messy volume. “Well… I’m in the East Village. Any places in particular you like around here?”  
Frank rattled off some place that apparently carried the kind of almond milk he liked, and gave Gerard the cross streets.  
Frank was about to hang up when Gerard stopped him.  
“Wait! How will I know it’s you?” Gerard asked.  
“Oh yeah. Forgot about that.” Frank chuckled. “I’m uh… wearing this stupid red beanie. Like, blood red.”  
“Cool. I’m wearing a…” Gerard looked down again, cringing at his outfit. White button-down, black jeans, a thick black wool sweater under his usual black coat. The only identifying factor was his, “ _big, stupid, striped scarf._ ”  
“Big, stupid, striped scarf. Got it.” Frank repeated with a giggle. “Okay. See you in like, twenty minutes!” Frank said, dropping the call. Either Mikey had told Frank all the right things about Gerard, or Frank was just a really nice guy because he sounded excited.  
~  
  
Gerard was only about 2 blocks away, standing on a street corner waiting for the light to change when he heard someone clear their throat to his right. He turned and glanced at a short, chubby guy with thick glasses and… _a blood red hat_. He wanted to kill Mikey as he tried not to stare at the guy’s protruding nose hairs and weird (possibly greying?) hair shape.  
“Are you um… _Frank?_ ” Gerard asked as politely as he could.  
The guy looked at Gerard like he had just been beamed down from outer space.  
“Um, Frank?” The guy asked with a thick accent.  
“Nevermind, sorry.” Gerard mumbled awkwardly.  
“Freak.” The guy muttered, rolling the ‘R’ and storming off across the street.  
That was New York City for you.  
  
Gerard quickened his pace. Relief washed over him as he spotted the place Frank had mentioned. A little sandwich board sat outside the door. There was a chalk drawing of a little furry monster drinking a cup of coffee, with huge white fangs, dangling from a list of the daily specials. The drawing held Gerard's attention for a few seconds. He could draw a _way_ better monster - A monster that looked a little less  _wolfish_.  
He pushed his way inside and stepped up to the counter, glancing around for a blood red beanie. He didn’t see one, in fact, the place was pretty empty, so he ordered 2 black drip coffees from the barista.  
He was staring at the weird ads tacked to a cork-board by the counter when the barista called his name.  
He spun around, grabbed the cups,  and smiled at the barista before turning to glance around again for a blood red hat… And there he was, sitting at a table by the window, staring out at the people walking by.  
  
Gerard crossed the room and slid into the seat across from him. He slid a cup in front of the unbelievably attractive guy. He had short black hair with bleached tufts mixed in, poking out of his vivid blood red hat. A silver lip ring contrasted with his pale cracked lips. A complimenting nose ring was on the other half of his face. His eyeliner was all smudgy and slept-in.  
He had that sexy just-rolled-out-of-bed look that Gerard always went crazy for.  
He could just _kiss_ his little brother right now.  
“You must be Frank.” Gerard smirked.  
The guy’s face went from excitement to horror in record-breaking speed.  
“Oh _hell_ no.” Frank blurted out, brow furrowing.  
Gerard blinked at Frank. This wasn’t typically how the first 5 seconds of a coffee date played out.  
Not in Gerard’s experience anyway.


	3. Guys Like You

There was an incredibly long, awkward pause between Frank and Gerard.  
Gerard stared at Frank with a curious expression, while Frank glared right back at him.  
“Do I… _know you_ from somewhere?” Gerard asked nervously.  
“You could say that.” Frank snorted, rolling his eyes. He didn’t return his gaze to Gerard’s.  
“I’m sorry, I just don’t…” Gerard trailed off.  
“You don’t even remember me, do you?” Frank said under his breath, mostly to himself. “Of course you fucking don’t.”  
Gerard just blinked at the beautiful, angry, obviously uncomfortable man across the table from him. He looked kind of familiar in a vague sort of way if Gerard really thought about it.  
Frank slid his chair back and stood up. Gerard’s heart leapt in panic, as he thought the guy was about to leave. Instead Frank just lifted up his sweatshirt, showing off his tattooed hips over his low-cut jeans.  
“How about now? Remember me now? You said you _liked these_ …” Frank muttered darkly.  
Gerard stared at the beautiful stretch of inked, pale skin. **Swallows.**  
_Then_ it hit him.  
Swallows.  
Rare Misfits records.  
Black coffee.  
The guy he’d talked to way too much...  
“ _Oh…_ ” Gerard mouthed, as details from that night trickled to the forefront of his mind.  
“That’s really all you have to say to me?” Frank said, rolling his eyes as he sat back down and pulled his chair in. He didn’t pull it as close to the table as it had been before, Gerard observed.  
“I’m sorry. I just.... what are the _odds?_ ” Gerard breathed, not knowing what the fuck he was supposed to say.  
“I know, right?” Frank sighed, rolling his eyes. “Hundreds of guys in this city with the same stupid fucking name as you and somehow I ended up sitting across from the only one I never wanted to see again.”  
Gerard swallowed hard. Not only was this guy incredibly hot and incredibly mad at Gerard, he was also incredibly good at comebacks.  
Frank scrubbed his hands over his face.  
“Whatever. You know what? _What. Ever._ ” Frank muttered. “I gotta go…”  
Frank pushed his chair back again and stood up. Gerard made a grab for his arm.  
“Frank, wait! Just… wait a minute. We should talk about this.”  
“There’s nothing to talk about.” Frank snapped, pulling his arm away. “See you in hell, asshole.”  
With that, Frank was pushing out the door and storming off down the street. Gerard could see him making his way down the block. The coffee Gerard had gotten him still sat on the table, steaming, waiting for the kind of almond milk Frank liked.  
That “date” had gone as poorly as it possibly could have, Gerard thought.  
  
Before he could really even think about it, Gerard was getting up out of his chair, pushing through the door and running down the street after Frank.  
“Frank! Stop!” He called out.  
Frank didn’t look back, but he didn’t take off running either, which Gerard took as a sign that he was listening. Gerard easily caught up to him.  
“Frank! Just… _listen for a sec._ Can I just say one thing?” Gerard panted.  
“Make it quick.” Frank snapped. He didn’t stop walking or turn to acknowledge Gerard.   
“Fucking- **Stop.** Stop walking away.” Gerard breathed, reaching after Frank, who continued his quick, angry stride.  
“Why?” Frank shot back, turning on his heels. Gerard narrowly avoided walking right into him. “What more could you _possibly_ want from me?”  
Frank stood in front of Gerard with his arms crossed. He didn’t look like shit, contrary to what he had said on the phone. He was completely stunning. Breath-takingly so.  
It was all such a bizarre contrast to the last time Gerard had seen Frank. Last time they’d been together, Frank had been all over him, flirty and romantic, pressing his body against Gerard’s and moaning into his mouth.  
“Well?” Frank prompted.  
Gerard realized he’d been staring and snapped his gaze away for half a second to recompose.  
“I… Look, if I’d known it would hurt you this much I never would’ve gone home with you in the first place.” Gerard said softly.  
Frank gave him an incredulous look.  
“...Well _that_ was a fucking terrible apology.” Frank snorted.  
“Frank…” Gerard sighed. “I really am sorry, okay? …I thought you were cool with just _hooking up_ or whatever. If I’d known you expected more I wouldn’t have left like that.”  
Frank looked so fucking done with Gerard’s shit. The sad thing was that Gerard didn’t blame him at all. In fact, he totally got it.  
“Was your brother lying when he said you were cool or does he just not know how much of a fucking asshole you are?” Frank asked.  
“...A little of both, probably.” Gerard chuckled in spite of himself, he stared down at his scuffed up shoes on the gum-covered pavement.  
“Nothing’s funny about this.” Frank whined. “ Like, _at all._ ”  
When Gerard looked up Frank was trying his hardest not to smile. Gerard’s heart fluttered at the sight.  
They stared at each other silently, both at a loss for words in their shitty situation. If he hadn’t fucked everything up already he could’ve had a normal coffee date with the sad, pretty punk before him. They would’ve hit it off. They would’ve been great together. He already knew that.  
Frank was completely different once you got his clothes off… the attitude was all just an act. From what Gerard remembered, Frank loved being pinned down and fucked hard. He was shamelessly submissive and a bit of a _talker._ He’d told Gerard exactly what he wanted and why. And _oh God_ Gerard was supposed to be controlling himself, not drooling over Frank.    
Gerard stared at Frank’s pale lips, which were pressed in a tight line. He couldn't help but remember the way they had hung open when Gerard had been-  
He was _staring_ again.  
Frank’s smile had faded. He stared back at Gerard with this sad, confused frown, arms crossed, shoulders squared.   
  
“Can we just… go back to the cafe and start over?” Gerard asked, crossing his fingers behind his back. “The coffee's probably drinking temperature by now.”  
Frank seemed to consider the idea for a half a second.  
“ _No way._ ” Frank said firmly, shaking his head.  
“Why not?” Gerard asked. “You said you’re not busy today.”  
“Cause I don’t like you very much.” Frank shrugged, “And I’ve got better things to do. That's why.”  
“You’re lying.” Gerard pressed. He was half-flirting, half-trying to figure out how to keep Frank with him, even if it was just for another 20 seconds.  
“I’m not lying.” Frank shot back, venom quickly returning to his features. He started walking away again. Gerard tagged along beside him. Dead leaves crunched under their feet as they walked.  
“You lied earlier?” Gerard pointed out.  
“About what?” Frank asked.  
“On the phone. You said you looked shitty today. You don’t.”  
“Don’t flirt with me, _Gerard Way._ ” Frank muttered. “Guys like you are alwa-”  
“Guys like me?” Gerard interrupted.  
“Yeah. Guys like you. You’re a _fuck-and-run_.” Frank explained.  
“I’m a _what?_ ” Gerard gasped. He looked like he’d been slapped. Frank felt a small pang of remorse when he glanced over at Gerard’s face.  
“A fuck-and-run? It’s exactly what it sounds like it is. No one’s ever called you that before?”  
“Don’t say it like that.” Gerard mumbled, hesitating before taking his next step. Guys weren’t usually so direct in calling Gerard a slut. It hurt his feelings. It caught him off guard.  
“Like what? Exactly what it is?” Frank repeated.  
“Don’t say it like you’re somehow better than me because of it... I’m not saying you’re not better than me, Frank. You probably are. I’m just saying that the number of people I’ve fucked isn’t what makes you better than me.” Gerard elaborated.  
Frank had stopped walking again. He didn’t say anything, he just stared at Gerard.  
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to be rude… I just hate when people make assumptions about me like that...” Gerard sighed.  
It wasn’t even that close to the moon and Gerard could already feel the uncontrollable mood swings coming on. That was probably why he’d followed Frank down the street. But it wasn't like he could  _explain_ that to Frank. Werewolves and full moons were hardly good first date conversation. Not if Gerard wanted a second date.  
Frank continued to stare at Gerard. He looked uncomfortable and desperate to get away.  
“Well… Frank. I’m sorry for following you…” Gerard said, realizing how creepy he must’ve seemed, “and for leaving you that night. All of it.”  
“Good.” Frank said softly, swallowing hard. “I’m glad.”  
Gerard was about to turn and walk away when he remembered the whole reason he’d even run into Frank...  
“ _Shit._ Mikey’s gonna ask how this went… What the fuck am I gonna tell him?” Gerard asked, running a hand through his hair.  
“The truth?” Frank suggested, raising an eyebrow.  
“Yeah… Probably a good idea.” Gerard sighed. “He’s going to ask you too, just so you know… He said I’d be able to cheer you up after what happened with your apartment and shit. I feel like I’ve done the opposite.”  
“It’s good in a way. I think I needed the closure” Frank shrugged.  
Another awkward silence fell over the two. Gerard couldn’t explain why he didn’t want to let Frank go.   
“Well… _Friends?_ ” Gerard asked, awkwardly extending his hand out to shake Frank’s.  
Frank eyed Gerard’s outstretched hand but made no motion to shake it.  
“I don’t want to be friends with you.” Frank said blankly.  
“I don’t blame you.” Gerard snorted, before he could stop himself. “Well, uh…”  
With flushing cheeks Gerard slid his hand in his pocket and turned to walk away, only glancing over his shoulder when he was half a block away. Frank had disappeared into the night, around some street corner.  
~

  
Frank felt better as soon as he'd turned the corner and was officially out of Gerard's sight. His apartment was only another couple of blocks away. He wasn't sure what he would've done if Gerard had followed him all the way home.   
He couldn’t stop thinking about how things would’ve gone if he’d been set up on a date with anyone else. They would’ve walked to Frank’s door and the guy would’ve kissed him goodnight. Frank wouldn’t have invited the guy upstairs… Frank didn’t invite guys upstairs anymore.  
Not since he’d met Gerard.


	4. Just Leave The Party With Me

When Gerard got home from his ‘date’ with Frank he felt like absolute shit.  
He wasn’t sure if it was because Frank had more-or-less called him a slut like it was a bad thing, or if it was just because Frank had been so upset and it had been entirely Gerard’s fault. Whatever the reason he didn’t sleep very well that night.  
Or the night after that.  
Or the night after that.  
  
When Gerard went out looking to hook up a few nights later, he found his game was completely thrown off. He couldn’t stand the thought of a repeat of how things had gone with Frank so he took extra care in retaining certain information about the guys he tried to pick up.  
  
All he had to go by were the things he'd wished he’d remembered about Frank. It came as no surprise to Gerard that gathering details on a person he was trying to fuck, based on the details of a person he had already fucked, completely ruined it for him. He just wasn’t used to inserting those dry, getting-to-know-you-type questions in his usual pickup routines. The first guy he tried to hit on actually grimaced at how badly Gerard had tripped over his words.  
  
Gerard found he had opened some sort of floodgate he wanted to slam shut when the next guy took Gerard’s questions as an invitation to drunkenly slur out his whole fucking life story.  
Bar after bar. Guy after guy. Night after night. Gerard went home alone thinking about Frank and proceeding to toss and turn.   
  
He tried calling Frank after a few days when he still wasn’t picking anyone up or sleeping right.  
Of course, Frank wouldn’t answer his calls.  
He didn’t bother to leave any voicemails. There was no apology that would fit in the short recording time Frank’s voice mailbox constricted him to.  
  
Mikey wasn’t actually all that upset about what had happened on Gerard’s ‘date’ with Frank. However, he had implied it was only further proof that what Gerard needed was someone he could be serious about. And, of course, Gerard still ‘owed’ Mikey for that time he had made the younger sibling pretend to be his boyfriend to get himself out of an awkward situation.  
  
It was close to the moon when Mikey decided on a way that Gerard could repay his brother. He insisted that Gerard absolutely must attend some stupid fucking event hosted by his work at some lame hipster bar in SoHo.  
  
Gerard had no interest in going under normal circumstances. He was even less interested in going when he realized Frank would probably be there.  
To make matters worse he was practically crawling out of his skin by the time he got home from work and changed into something acceptable for a cocktail hour. His mood swings were driving him crazy. He wanted to stay home and alternate between eating bloody steaks, jacking off and crying in the shower.  
“ _dont be a baby_ ” Mikey had texted him when he tried to back out.  
  
The worst of the cycle wouldn’t start for another couple of days and, unfortunately, Mikey was _well aware_ of that. Even so, Gerard swore it felt like his skin would rip apart and the beast inside of him would come out and attack his brother’s coworkers in the middle of their cocktail hour. He felt so deranged he almost wanted to make a bet on how long it would take him to do something hostile and embarrassing. His skin burned all over and the collar of his black button-down felt itchy and impossibly tight. He practically ripped off the tie he’d neatly tied around his neck and fumbled to open the top few buttons on his shirt. The creature inside of him yearned to rip off the rest of his constricting garments and run free through the wild. He swallowed hard and closed his eyes, trying to gain control of the urges commanding him to wreak havoc...  
  
About 5 seconds later he ripped the shirt off as quickly as he could, sighing with relief as his skin made contact with the cool air in his apartment.  
His gaze darted around the room until his eyes fell on a crumpled up white shirt on the edge of his bed. He pulled the slightly stained Smiths t-shirt over his shoulders, relishing in the comfort of the soft, worn cotton. It smelled familiar, like cigarettes, maybe laundry detergent..  
He whispered to himself to just keep it together for a few hours.  
And to not do anything too stupid in front of Mikey’s work friends. In front of _Frank._  
Fuck. _Frank._  
He took one last glance in the mirror, shrugged into a thick, wool sweater and slipped out the door.  
~  
  
By the time Gerard had gotten off the subway, wandered around the neighborhood for 20 minutes in search of the right address, and finally found the right block, Mikey was waiting for him outside, passing the time with a cigarette.  
  
“Look what the cat dragged in.” Mikey said neutrally, dropping his cigarette on the sidewalk and crushing it under his boot as soon as his eyes landed on Gerard, "Though I suppose you're usually the one dragging cats..."   
Gerard gave his brother a look, trying his best to tuck the monstrous feelings away, “Sorry it took so long. I mixed up East and West again. That train station’s so confusing...I got turned around and-”  
“Idiot.” the younger Way interrupted. He turned on his heels and shouldered into the bar. Gerard followed his younger brother down a hallway towards an elevator. The bass line of music buzzed down from upstairs somewhere.   
“So…” Mikey sighed, pressing the ‘up’ button to call an elevator car. “Frank’s here. He said it’s okay that you’re here though.”  
“That’s… good?” Gerard commented blankly.  
“Yeah. He said he’s not mad at you anymore.”  
The hopefulness that washed over Gerard must’ve shown in his face.  
“...But he still doesn’t wanna talk to you. Also, he said not to call him again.” Mikey added with a smirk.  
“Oh.” Gerard frowned. “Okay. I’ll just um... keep my distance?”  
“No. Don’t make it like, _a thing_ , Gerard” Mikey insisted. The elevator doors slid open. “He’s just… not interested?”  
The brothers stepped into the elevator car. Several decades of scents lingered, wrapping themselves around Gerard. He preferred the stairs. Elevators were always so distracting. Why would anyone ever think to put carpet down?  

Gerard swallowed hard, feeling awkward and wondering if he should’ve worn the black shirt he’d started out with. He tugged at his sweater, fastening the 2 buttons in the middle of the garment.  
  
“Don’t worry about it. He promised he won’t make a big deal out of it if you won’t. There’s someone else I want you to meet anyways.”  
“Mikey,” Gerard groaned. “No more blind dates. You really suck at it.” He tousled his hair to give it some more volume.  
“No. You just suck at apologies” Mikey chuckled. “That’s not my fault.”  
  
Gerard had no counterargument to that. He realized, a moment too late, that this meant that Frank had actually spoken to Mikey, _about Gerard_. He opened his mouth to ask what Frank had specifically said about him when the elevator doors slid open to the noisy 5th floor bar.  
  
Gerard couldn’t bring himself to step out of the car. He thought the carpeting had been bad... The scents of the people standing around and talking were wafting straight into Gerard’s nostrils. The information overload was completely nauseating. His brain set to work immediately. The predator inside him cataloged the varieties of perfume and alcohol stewing in the atmosphere.   
  
“We don’t have to stay long.” Mikey assured his brother, putting a hand on his lower back to coax him out of the elevator car.  
“I don’t like this. Not one bit.” Gerard gritted out, swallowing his nausea.  
“I’m gonna say ‘hi’ to everyone and see if I can find that guy I wanted to introduce you to.” Mikey said against Gerard’s ear. He shot his brother a look that said “don’t even fucking try to leave.” before disappearing into the crowd.  
  
Gerard walked towards the bar in an almost-straight line, weaving around a few groups of people. He kept his eyes on the floor, making a point not to look above anyone’s shoes. He didn’t want to see Frank again. Only he hadn’t realized _how much_ he didn’t want to see Frank again until they were in the same room. He wondered what kind of shoes Frank would wear as he glanced at a scuffed pair of doc martens…   
  
Gerard slid onto a stool at the far end of the bar and ordered a beer. He stared at the bubbles floating upwards in the brown liquid. 

He could hold his liquor just fine these days. Bars were open late. Drinking came with being a creature of the night. He'd found ways to keep himself in check, and that was that. But keeping himself in check was such a _chore_ sometimes. 

A heavy, dramatic sigh escaped his lips every when he checked the time on his phone. He'd survived the first 10 minutes. He took a sip of his beer experimentally and grimaced. The brew was way too bitter and dark for his liking… it was also going flat. Maybe it would keep him from actually drinking at all.   
“Would you like something else?” The bartender asked, eyeing the way Gerard was swirling his finger around in the foam floating on top of his beer. “A mood change. Something lighter, perhaps?”  
“Could I get something stronger actually?” Gerard offered vacantly, staring at the guy’s mess of flat, black hair covering half his face. He had a rim of dark blue eye shadow around the eye Gerard could see.  
“Sure, sure. What would you like?” The guy asked politely.  
“More whiskey than coke, if you can.” Gerard said.  
  
The guy nodded and started fixing Gerard’s drink. He winked at Gerard as he left the bottle upturned over the glass of ice for longer than he probably should have. He topped the whiskey off with a few spurts of cola before sliding the drink across the counter towards Gerard.  
  
“So… it’s none of my business but… any reason you’re sulking in the corner at such an exciting record release?”  
“This guy...” Gerard started, then shook his head, “Well, no. This place just isn’t really my scene right now… that’s all. My brother dragged me out.”  
“A guy, huh?” The bartender asked, leaning over the counter towards Gerard with interest. Gerard caught a whiff of his scent. Cologne. Musk. Spilled liquor.  
“Yeah… he’s here somewhere.” Gerard shrugged, taking a gulp of his drink. _“_ I sort of... _really fucked things up.”  
_ He was absolutely sickened by his own honesty. As well as the strength of the drink the bartender had poured him. But he'd made his bed and now he had to lay in it. 

The bartender glanced around the room, making a thoughtful humming sound.  
“What’s he look like?” The bartender asked, looking back at Gerard.  
“Black hair, some of it’s bleached, I think. He might’ve changed it. I don't know. Lip ring? Tattoos?” Gerard said, drumming his fingers on the counter. “I think he kinda stands out but I’m biased…”  
“I think I see him actually.” The bartender said after glancing up again. “Is he kinda… short?”  
“Yeah. He’s on the shorter side.”  
“Play it cool, don’t look but… he’s totally looking over here right now…” The bartender said, smirking. His eyes darted between Gerard’s face and somewhere off to Gerard’s left.  
“Oh my god. Really?” Gerard groaned dejectedly. “Does he look mad?”  
“He doesn’t look... mad?” the bartender mused. “It’s kind of hard to tell in this light. He’s frowning a little but that doesn’t mean he’s mad. Does he have a reason to be mad at you?” The bartender lifted a curious eyebrow.  
“Yeah. I think he’s perfectly allowed to be mad.” Gerard offered thoughtfully, slugging on his drink.  
“Y’know, you’re way cuter than him…” The bartender said, "I wouldn't worry about it too much." He glanced down at his watch. “In fact, my shift ends in like, 20 minutes… mind if I join you for a few drink when I’m off?”  
Gerard bit his lip in thought… the bartender wasn’t bad looking and he’d sort of just said Gerard was cute so he figured he might as well say yes. It normally wasn’t so easy. Gerard hadn't even had to try. This bartender had come on _to him._  
“Sure. Why not?” Gerard shrugged.  
“Cool. You can tell me all about uh… shorty over there.”  
“I don’t wanna talk about him anymore.” Gerard frowned, taking another sip of his drink. “He’s really starting to bum me out.”  
“Fine, well… I could help you forget he’s even here, if that’s what you want.”  
Gerard caught a glimpse of a playful smirk on the guy’s face.  
“Sounds good to me.” Gerard grinned.  
“Try not to have too much fun without me.” The guy flirted, “I’m Ryan, by the way.” He held out a tattooless hand. Gerard reached out and took the Ryan’s hand in his.  
“Gerard.” He replied.  
“Cool uh… see you in a few, Gerard.” Ryan nodded, turning on his heel to help a couple that were seated a few stools down.  
  
Gerard watched the way Ryan his hands on his hips and sort of bounced on his heels when he was chatting with the other customers at the bar. He was an upbeat type. Not really _Gerard's_ type.   
It took every iota of Gerard’s willpower to not turn and look in the direction Ryan had glanced. He wanted to know what Frank was wearing. He wanted to know if he looked pissed off. He wanted to know if Frank had changed his hair at all. If he was drinking. _What_ he was drinking. Who he was talking to. If who he was talking to was cuter than Gerard.  
Gerard took another gulp of his drink to try and slow the racing thoughts brought on by the monstrous creature clawing its way to the forefront of his brain.  
~  
  
Ryan slid onto the bar stool beside Gerard with a drink already in his hand. He had changed into garments that were all-black and impossibly tight, leaving very little to the imagination. It was a sharp contrast to his previous attire.  
“Oh man.” Gerard said, giving the guy the once-over. “How come they don’t let you wear that on the clock? You’d rake in the fucking tips.”  
“I... think that was a compliment?” Ryan said, brushing his hair to the side and playfully grimacing. “I’ll take it.”  
Their conversation went much like that. Ryan ordered them another round of drinks and they talked and flirted easily. No matter how pretty Ryan was Gerard couldn’t forget about Frank, but the alcohol did a nice job of dulling his senses, helping him to forget how close to the moon it was.   
Gerard started to wonder where Mikey had gotten off to. It had been awhile since he had seen his brother. The volume of the voices in the room had increased quite a bit. Gerard wasn’t sure if Mikey’s coworkers were louder when you fed them booze or if more people had arrived after them.   
Gerard glanced down to Ryan’s fingers, which were busy stroking over the back of Gerard's hand. The sensation brought back the predatory urges. A simple touch and Gerard was reduced to nothing more than an animal running on instinct. He was sure they could go back to Ryan’s place. All he had to do was say the words.  
He didn’t want to leave without consulting Mikey. Ryan wasn’t one of Mikey’s coworkers and he was clearly only interested in sex. There was no danger in a repeat of the incident with Frank. Mikey would still have something to say about it though. Gerard was sure of that.  
He smiled at Ryan and it took him a moment to realize that he wasn’t really listening to what the Ryan was saying anymore. He had been telling Gerard about this serial killer he had once spoken to in a convenience store before he had been convicted. That was the last thing Gerard remembered before his brain had floated off to Mikey... and then right back to Frank.  
Was Frank still there or had he left when he saw Gerard flirting with the bartender? Did Frank even care what Gerard did?  
“Ryan, uh, excuse me a moment.” he mumbled, sliding off the barstool. “All this liquid I uh- bathroom.”  
Ryan smiled and nodded at him, tipping his drink up against his lips.  
  
Gerard waded through Mikey’s coworkers towards where he thought he’d seen a sign for the men’s room. He considered their bodies like a wolf charging through a herd of sheep. He gave up on keeping his eyes on the ground when he bumped into a lady. Her drink sloshed onto his shoe. He apologized and dashed into the bathroom.  
After relieving himself, he stared at himself in the mirror. He looked as crazy as he felt. The pull of the moon was _pulling him apart_. He splashed cold water over his face but it did nothing to still the vibrations in his bones.  
He needed to get the fuck out of this bar.  
With or without company.  
  
Gerard meandered through the warm bodies, booze coursing through their flesh and churning out in the sweat oozing from their pores.  
To Gerard’s immediate horror, Ryan was no longer sitting on the barstool beside the one with Gerard’s sweater slung over it.   
  
_Frank_ had taken Ryan’s place. He pushed a glass around on the counter as he waited for Gerard to come back.  
Gerard pieced it together pretty quick... Frank had said or done something to chase his prospective fuck-buddy away and now he wanted to _talk_ to Gerard. The predator inside Gerard was _furious_ at the loss of potential satiation.  
Gerard panicked, wondering briefly if he could just turn and run, abandoning his sweater, but before he could stop himself he was moving forward and sliding onto the seat next to Frank.  
“Where's Ryan?” Gerard asked calmly, staring Frank directly in the eyes. He could feel the aggression coursing through his veins.  
“ _Oh._ So you remember names now?” Frank asked sarcastically, glaring back, “ _That’s new._ ”  
“ **Yeah**. I have _you_ to thank for that actually.” Gerard said, “What the fuck did you do?”  
“I was just trying to save him some trouble.” Frank shrugged.  
“Trouble?” Gerard asked.  
“Yeah. Trouble.  _You._ ” Frank said.  
“I told you I was sorry." Gerard deflected, "And I still am. But I thought you weren’t going to make a scene.”  
“I’m not making a scene, _you are._ ” Frank countered.  
“What do you even want from me?” Gerard hissed, leaning in.  
Frank flinched. He smelled incredible. Like fear, and fucking roses, and hair product. Gerard wasn’t sure if he wanted to fuck Frank, devour Frank, or destroy Frank. Either way, this was quickly turning into one of those "wrong place at the wrong time" sort of scenarios. Gerard should've left when he had the chance.   
He had to get away from Frank… and  _fast._  
“You know what? Just... _Fuck you_.” Gerard cursed, ripping his sweater off the back of the stool and making a beeline for the exit. There was no way in hell he was gonna wait for the fucking elevator. He shouldered out the door to the stairwell and quickly made his way down all 10 flights and out of the building.  
  
The frigid evening air was like a lifeline. Gerard let it flow in through his nose and out past his lips. He walked on unsteady legs for half a block, before he found a set of stairs to sit on. He lit a cigarette with shaky hands and swallowed a wave of nausea.  
Frank hadn't exactly helped things. But the moon was pulling him the fuck apart and he was _losing his shit_.  
He inhaled the chilly air as his vision went hazy.  
He closed his eyes and focused on his cigarette. He knew it was just the animal inside of him, but he wanted to fucking cry. Jacking off and eating steak also sounded really fucking good too. He hung his head between his knees to try and get the world to quit spinning.  
  
Gerard was wondering if he’d gotten the lunar calendar wrong somehow. Maybe the full moon was tonight, not tomorrow night, and a lot unsuspecting civilians were about to be ripped apart. The streets of Manhattan would run red with blood.   
Gerard inhaled, assaulted by another waft of Frank’s scent.  
“Fuck, are you okay?” Frank asked.  
Gerard’s head shot up, inspiring another wave of nausea.  
“Please just go away. I’m... _busy._ ” Gerard faltered pathetically. He felt too weak to argue.  
“I see how it is." Frank fumed. "You've already fucked me so you don’t want anything to do with me now? Is that it?”  
  
Gerard couldn’t do this right now.  
If Frank wanted a formal apology he’d have to get it after the moon had passed. Gerard couldn’t be alone with Frank. It wasn't safe. He’d do something stupid and impulsive. It was taking everything he had to not just grab him and eat him up. There was no obvious way out of trying to give the sad punk boy some semblance of an explanation so he had to try…  
  
“That’s not how it works, Frank.” Gerard sighed, staring down at his cigarette. “I fucking like you, okay? I told you I was sorry. I tried calling you, even. I’m just… I can’t do this right now. Can we talk about this another night? I’ll take you for coffee again and I won’t fuck it up. _I promise_. I just…” He faltered, hanging his head.  
"Bullshit." Frank called, "How dare you come into my place, with my fucking friends, and ignore me?"   
"What?" Gerard asked, officially confused.   
"Look, I don't _want_ to see you." Frank said, "But if I have to, would it kill you to say 'what's up' like a fucking normal person? I can't have you coming around and making everything fucking weird. And I'll be damned if you try to pick up my friends. You're lucky I fucking hate Ryan." 

Frank sat down on the step beside Gerard. Gerard could feel his warmth, could smell him, could practically _taste_ him and it made shivers run up and down his spine.   
“Dude, are you okay? Did Ryan put something in your drink or something?” Frank asked softly. All the previous venom from his voice dropped immediately, "He's a sketchy fucker."   
  
“You’re really pale and you’re all shivery.” Frank said.   
Inside Gerard was burning up, but he started to pull his sweater on so he could play off the shakes like he was cold.   
"'M just cold. No one drugged me." Gerard said, "I'm way too aware of how much I want you to go the fuck away. There's no way I'm drugged."   
"I don't get it." Frank said, "You practically chased me home the other night. You've been calling me all week... What changed? Why do you want me to fuck off so bad all of a sudden?"   
"It's for your own good." Gerard said, biting his lip against another shiver.   
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Frank asked, "Look, let me just help you get home. Your brother would kill me if I let you die."  

“Frank, I… you can’t _handle me._ ” Gerard mumbled as a last ditch effort. _I can’t fucking handle **myself,**_ he didn't add.  
“I think I remember handling you just fine before.” Frank challenged, raising an eyebrow. Their faces were so close, Gerard felt like his bones would just shake apart if they didn’t…  
Frank leaned in and pressed his lips against Gerard’s. And for the second time in an hour, Gerard wondered how it had been so easy. Frank had practically come onto him. Gerard hadn't even had to try.   
Gerard dropped his cigarette and reached for Frank’s face to pull him closer. Frank’s breath flooded Gerard’s mouth as his lips parted, feeding the nightmare curled up inside of him. Frank wrapped his arms around Gerard’s neck. It was too much, too soon. They kissed hungrily, awkwardly trying to get closer on the cold, uncomfortable concrete step.  
Gerard didn't care, and had maybe never cared. He was ready to just fucking rub one out against Frank’s thigh right there in the middle of the street.  
“Please,” Frank sighed against Gerard’s lips, “let me take you home.”  
Gerard was too far gone to protest.  
  
Frank pulled Gerard off the steps and into the street, raising his hand to flag down a cab. His other hand was clasped tightly in Gerard’s. Their fingers laced together.   
Once inside a cab, Frank gave Gerard about 10 seconds to give the cabbie directions before he brought his hand up to Gerard’s jaw to turn his face and kiss him hard. Their lips crushed together hungrily. Gerard wasn’t even in control of his own body anymore. He gave in and set the animal inside of him free to do exactly what it wanted.  
Frank kissed Gerard back so intently, tangling his hands in Gerard’s hair and pulling him closer, he almost couldn’t believe it was really happening. Not after the shit Frank had said about him. He’d told Mikey he wasn’t interested. That Gerard shouldn’t call. Yet there he was, shoving his tongue down Gerard’s throat in the back of a cab.  
Gerard realized somewhere in the back of his mind that he’d given the driver directions to his own apartment.  
  
He **never** brought anyone back to his own apartment.  
  
Before Gerard could freak out about it, Frank slid his hand up Gerard’s thigh and over his hard-on. He gasped into Frank’s mouth in relief as Frank squeezed his cock. He’d been dying for physical contact for days. It was so good he could cry.  
Gerard’s fingers fumbled with the zipper on Frank’s jacket. Frank reached for Gerard’s hand to still him when he’d gotten the zipper about halfway down.  
“Let’s keep it PG-13 until we... get back to your place, yeah?” Frank whispered in between sloppy kisses.  
“Touching my cock isn’t  _PG-13._ ” Gerard hissed against Frank's ear, “What the fuck kind of... PG-13 movies have you been watching?”  
Frank chuckled finding Gerard’s lips again.  
He stopped kissing Gerard and buried his face in Gerard’s sweater, inhaling deeply. Gerard hugged Frank tightly, letting himself breathe in the scent of Frank's hair. The fear, the roses, the lingering atmosphere leftover from the bar. Somehow, the close contact, though leaning towards PG, was enough for the monster inside Gerard somehow. He closed his eyes and let Frank's warmth consume him.   
He didn’t want to read into it too much, though he was certain of one thing:  
  
Frank was turning out to be more trouble than Gerard.


	5. Your Name On My Tongue

Gerard could barely understand what the cab driver was saying over the shivers that traveled up and down his spine. Frank's lips were on his neck, but he may as well have been pouring gasoline on Gerard's final shreds of sanity - which were already on fire. He squeezed Frank’s thigh to try to get him to stop. Frank took as an invitation to use his teeth.  
  
He handed the driver some bills - probably more than was necessary - and slid out of the back seat, pulling Frank by the hand.  
It took them awhile to actually get to Gerard’s apartment. They stopped to kiss in the middle of each flight of stairs and then again at the top of each flight. Frank was driving Gerard completely insane, he tasted so fucking good. Gerard couldn’t decide where he wanted to put his mouth most. Frank’s lips were soft and warm and smoky. His jawline was peppered with stubble.   
The skin of Frank’s neck was just as soft and warm, but it was salty and sweet. Frank made low throaty sounds whenever Gerard dipped below the collar of his jacket.   
The sounds triggered something in Gerard. His own throat was capable of some truly monstrous sounds this close the moon. He wanted to growl right back at Frank. Some kind of animalistic urge he didn’t understand was racing to the surface.  
After what felt like aeons of heated kissing in the stairwell, Gerard pulled Frank up the last flight of stairs and down the hall to his apartment door.  
It was hard for Gerard to get his front door unlocked with the way Frank was sucking on his neck. Teeth and tongue. Almost angry.   
An alarm went off in the back of Gerard’s head then. They were breaking too many rules. He shouldn't have brought Frank back here. He definitely shouldn't let Frank mark him up like this. 

He fumbled with his keys, pressing Frank against the door. Frank slid his hands up under the back of Gerard’s t-shirt, dragging his nails down Gerard's back. Gerard unlocked the first lock and quickly flipped through his keys looking for the one that turned the second lock. He almost dropped the keys altogether when Frank’s hand slipped down and groped him through his jeans. He slid the key in the lock and turned it with shaky hands. He pressed a firm, meaningful kiss to Frank’s lips, snaking an arm around his waist so he wouldn’t stumble backwards as Gerard pushed the door open.  
“Can I get you anything?” Gerard breathed against Frank’s lips, flipping the locks back into place behind them. He thought for a moment about flicking on the lights, but decided against it, reasoning they wouldn’t need light for what Frank seemed to have in mind.  
“No… Just take me to your room.” Frank demanded in a gritty voice.  
“You don’t even want to put music on?” Gerard mumbled before sliding his tongue up along Frank’s throat.  
Frank hummed for a moment.  
“No.” He said, finally, “I just... I want you to fuck me.”  
Gerard broke off of Frank enough to pull him by the wrist towards his bedroom. He couldn’t remember the last time he had let anyone besides Mikey in his apartment. It was edging near uncomfortable to have someone else’s smell mixed into the atmosphere of the small 2 bedroom.  
Gerard stopped at his bedroom door and pulled Frank in for a kiss. It was different than the other kisses they had shared on the cab ride over. It was softer, sweeter, and full of intent.  
With the way things had gone with Frank previously, Gerard felt this overwhelming need to make sure that this would be good for the uninformed, human, punk-boy before him, even though Gerard had no idea what the fuck Frank even wanted out of this anymore.   
If he fucked Frank, would Frank stay the night? If Frank stayed the night, would he want to stay for breakfast in the morning?  
If Frank stayed for Breakfast… _what the fuck did people even want beyond breakfast?_  
Relationships, eventually. But what happened between breakfast and relationships? Gerard had no fucking idea.  
  
And there Gerard was: silently panicking about a situation he couldn’t back out of, with his lips pressed against a pretty punk boy who had come onto him too easily.  
Gerard couldn’t deny it anymore: He _liked_ Frank. Hell, he even wanted the guy to stick around afterwards if he kept smelling and tasting so fucking good. But he wasn't qualified to deal with Frank staying the night. He'd fuck this up if Frank gave him the chance.   
  
Gerard didn’t want to be around Frank this close to the moon. If the pull got to him, there'd be no backing out.   
Frank was Mikey’s coworker. He had Gerard’s phone number. He knew people Gerard knew. He knew where Gerard _lived._  
This was completely different.  
This was **bad.**  
But there was nothing Gerard could do to fix this now. Because Frank was there, sliding out of his sweatshirt. He let it hit the floor and slid his hands under the shoulders of Gerard's sweater. The sweater easily slid off Gerard's shoulders and onto the floor. They fumbled for a moment, kicking off their shoes. Gerard even managed to pull his shirt off before he hit the bed.   
  
Gerard pushed his laundry list of anxieties to the back of his mind as he pushed Frank down onto the bed. He slid between Frank’s legs and kissed the hell out of him, pressing his hips tightly against Frank’s and gasping at the friction. He kissed Frank’s neck to muffle his growls. He felt less and less human with every passing second. Frank was making him insane. He could feel himself letting go, getting lost in the dizzying, lusty sounds Frank made as their hips slid against each other’s.  
“Are you… nervous or something?” Frank asked softly.  
Gerard froze.  
He didn’t feel _nervous._ He felt _deranged_ and _desperate_ but ‘nervous’ didn't fit the bill at all.   
“No… _why?”_ Gerard asked.  
“Here… uh, turn on the light for a second.” Frank said, stretching towards the side of the bed in search of a lamp.  
Gerard panicked, suddenly worrying the inhumanity would be clear in his face. He hesitated for a moment before gently pushing Frank down onto the mattress and reaching past him to turn on the small lamp on the nightstand.  
“What’s wrong?” Gerard asked, suddenly nervous. After his eyes adjusted he smiled shyly at the beautiful punk underneath him.  
“I dunno. _You tell me._ Are you okay? You’re like, shaking a lot and... you’re really, _really_ pale.” Frank said, pushing up against Gerard gently to get him off. Gerard slid off and moved to Frank’s side obediently.  
Frank pushed Gerard against the mattress and slid on top of him.  
“If you're not up for this...” Frank said, staring down into Gerard’s eyes with a concerned look.  
“I’m fine.” Gerard promised, nodding weakly. “Just had a little too much to drink.”  
It wasn’t entirely false to say. He’d drank way more than he usually allowed himself to, especially so close to the moon.  
“Maybe we shouldn’t- We don't have to...” Frank trailed off softly, stroking his fingers along the side of Gerard’s face.  
“No it's okay...” Gerard said, “I wanted this before… It’s sort of why I drank as much as I did.”  
Frank gave him a quizzical look.  
“Mikey made it seem like you were still mad at me so I was nervous about seeing you again...” Gerard admitted, glancing up at the ceiling past Frank’s face in a last ditch effort to avoid his eyes.  
He wasn’t sure how things had gone from heated foreplay to spilling his guts but the animal inside him did not like it one bit.  
“So you _are_ nervous then.” Frank confirmed smugly.  
“Will you take your clothes off if I tell you I’m nervous?” Gerard asked softly, not intending for the desperation he felt to come across so bluntly.  
There was a millisecond where Gerard thought he’d said the wrong thing for sure. A variety of emotions washed over Frank’s face before he let out a breathy laugh. He pulled his t-shirt over his head, messing up his hair in the best way possible, and leaned down to kiss Gerard softly.  
“Happy?” he breathed against Gerard’s lips.  
Gerard hummed in approval.  
Frank shifted his weight, straddling Gerard’s hips. He leaned back, angling himself perfectly over Gerard’s hard-on and reached down to work at his belt. Gerard bit the inside of his cheek hard to suppress a groan. His jaw slacked in awe as he watched Frank’s inked fingers slide the faux-leather out of the buckle.  
“You still like my tattoos, huh?” Frank asked softly, leaning forward to nuzzle the side of Gerard’s face. His warm, sweet breath flooded Gerard’s brain, causing short-circuits all across the motherboard.  
“Yeah.” Gerard managed, swallowing hard. “They’re beautiful... You’re beautiful.”  
“Shut up.” Frank laughed, placing a kiss on his cheek.  
“It’s true.” Gerard argued, pushing Frank off.  
Frank slid off easily and moved onto his back beside Gerard. Gerard crawled over top of Frank so he could help him slide his tight jeans off. He struggled to shuck his own pants off as well. It took a lot tugging and pushing. Gerard regretted not turning the lights on before. He hadn’t thought about Frank’s tattoos when he’d decided to leave them off. His inked skin stretched, distorting his tattoos every time he moved.  
  
Once they got their jeans off Gerard slid between Frank’s legs, shivering as his hard-on rubbed against Frank’s, separated only by a few layers of cotton. He kissed Frank hard, relishing in the sensation of the warm skin on skin contact. Frank ground his hips up against Gerard's, sighing into Gerard’s mouth.  
It was comforting somehow to feel Frank already coming undone underneath him. It was nice to not feel like the only one so desperate for intimacy, even if Frank’s desperation had no supernatural hunger behind it.  
  
He trailed kisses down Frank’s chest, licking and sucking marks into the pale flesh as he went. Frank tasted so fucking good. He was sweeter than most people and Gerard couldn’t figure out why that was. If he could just keep sampling the way Frank tasted he thought he might be able to figure it out. At some point he was no longer kissing Frank, he was just licking him all over. He slid farther down when he realized this. Gerard didn’t dare to look up and try to interpret the look on Frank’s face. If Frank was weirded out, Gerard didn’t want to know.   
  
Gerard placed wet open-mouthed kisses up along Frank’s inner-thigh, only stopping when the fabric of Frank’s boxers got in his way.  
“We need to get these off.” Gerard growled, practically clawing the waistband down over Frank’s hips. He stole a glance up at Frank who only bit his lip and nodded frantically.  
  
Gerard kept his eyes on Frank’s as he wrapped a hand around the base of Frank’s cock and brought it to his lips. Frank’s mouth slid open for a shaky inhale as Gerard circled his tongue around the tip.  
  
Frank bit hard on his lower lip to fight a moan building in his throat. His features softened as Gerard brought the length of his cock into his mouth, wanting to moan himself at the delicious drag of Frank against his tongue. Frank licked his lips as he watched Gerard, running a hand through Gerard’s hair to help keep it out of his face. Gerard closed his eyes and lost himself in the up-and-down slide of his lips over Frank’s skin. He tasted so sweet, Gerard couldn’t put his finger on what it was.  
  
Gerard could feel Frank tensing under him. Frank was holding back, trying his best not to buck his hips. Gerard wanted, no, _needed_ Frank to let go. He pulled his mouth off of Frank’s cock and looked up. Frank had his hands braced on the sheets. His teeth were sunk into his lower lip. He stared back at Gerard with this fucking _look_. He looked as crazy as Gerard felt.  
  
Gerard planted kisses over Frank’s hip before scraping his teeth over the skin and bone to see if he could get more sounds out of Frank. Frank inhaled sharply but otherwise made no sound. Gerard remembered Frank to be quite vocal, if the last time he’d gotten Frank like this was anything to go by. He didn’t know why Frank was so quiet now. It wasn’t like he wasn’t turned on. Quite the opposite.   
  
Gerard slid his fingers into his mouth before sliding them over Frank’s ass to tease him a little. Frank made a tiny muffled groan then. Gerard brought Frank’s dick back into his mouth, working his fingers into Frank as he found a rhythm.  
  
Gerard could feel Frank’s body tense and relax over and over as he massaged his ass, feeling around for his sweet spot. He was shaking with it, hips bucking into Gerard’s mouth.  
  
Frank was starting to sweat more. Gerard breathed in Frank’s scent deeply through his nose. It almost grossed him out how hot it made him. His own cock throbbed, painfully untouched, grazing feather-light against the sheets.  
  
“ _Gerard.”_ Frank gasped. _That was new._ Frank hadn’t said his _name_ the last time they’d done this. Swirling his tongue around Frank’s cock, Gerard over-analyzed what the fuck that meant. As if things weren't weird enough already.   
  
“Gerard,” Frank moaned, breathing heavy. “Use your- I want you to-”  
  
Gerard pulled his mouth off of Frank’s cock and glanced up at him. He slid his fingers out of Frank to wet them some more. Frank twitched at the absence of contact. Curiosity touched Frank's eyes as Gerard savored the taste. He slid his fingers back in, and then out again, gently scissoring Frank open.  
  
“Tell me what you want, Frankie.” He demanded, voice wrecked from the abuse on his throat.  
  
“I want you to fuck me.” He whispered softly, throwing his head back against the pillows.  
  
Gerard smirked. He couldn’t help it. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had begged him to fuck them. Someone who knew what Gerard could do.   
Gerard crawled up Frank’s body to place a firm, wet kiss on his lips. Frank kissed back hungrily, his chest rising and falling heavily underneath Gerard. Gerard’s hard-on pressed against Frank’s thigh. The slide of his cock against Frank’s slick skin was almost enough to push Gerard over. But he still had work to do.   
“I’ll fuck you, alright.” Gerard said softly against his lips, “But I want you on top.”  
  
Frank sighed into his mouth. Gerard took it as the closest thing he’d get to Frank’s approval. He reached over into the drawer in his nightstand, almost surprised when he found condoms and lube there. He usually kept them in his bag, in coat pockets, shirt pockets, anywhere but there - since he never brought his hookups home with him.  
  
Gerard wasted no time coating his fingers in lube and sliding them into Frank again, a little less than gently. Frank liked it that way. Gerard smiled at his handiwork as Frank writhed on the bed before him. His jaw slacked, his eyes screwed shut. Gerard had him completely shaking apart and he wasn’t even fucking the guy yet. When Frank’s pleasured sighs grew impatient he pulled his fingers out again and wiped the lubey residue on the sheets. He got out from between Frank’s legs and fell to Frank’s side, on his back.  
  
He ripped the condom wrapper open and rolled it over his length, gasping at the contact. Frank kissed him hard, distracting him by shoving his tongue in Gerard’s mouth. Gerard gave himself a few strokes, moaning into Frank’s mouth, before popping the cap on the lube and slicking more than was necessary over the condom. Frank continued to kiss him as Gerard spread the lube over himself. He’d overkilled it and could feel the excess fluid drizzling onto his inner thighs.  
Frank pushed Gerard’s hand away and slid onto Gerard’s lap, spreading one of his hands over Gerard’s chest. Gerard’s cock slid against Frank’s ass, making them both gasp. Frank reached his hand back behind him and helped Gerard line up against his ass. He sunk over Gerard’s cock slowly. It was Gerard’s turn to come undone as he felt Frank stretching all around him. He gripped Frank’s hips tightly to keep him steady, letting the punk set the pace.  
“ _Fuck,_ ” Frank hissed, tilting his head back. “Gerard you’re so-.”  
  
When Frank leaned back Gerard could see the faint outlines of his ribs casting slanted shadows across his chest. He couldn’t really process anything other than the way it felt when Frank sunk all the way down and snapped back up with his hips, jerking slightly to the side and dragging against Gerard’s cock at a breath-stealing angle. Gerard dug his nails into Frank’s skin, trying hard to last as long as possible.  
Frank slid up and down, grinding his hips against Gerard desperately. Gerard led him on, pulling his hips in a dizzyingly quickening rhythm. Gerard wrapped a hand around Frank’s cock, trying to pump in time with Frank’s thrusts. It was hard to focus with Frank on him like that. His rhythm grew uneven as he fought to prolong his orgasm.  
“Gerard, I’m-” Frank gasped, cutting himself short with a gasp.  
“ _Talk to me._ ” Gerard begged in a low growl, hips snapping off the mattress to meet Frank’s thrusts halfway.  
“I’m so close. We should slow down- ‘m gonna cum.” He whimpered up at the ceiling. He looked pretty with his white throat exposed like that.  
“That’s the idea.” Gerard breathed, thumbing over the head of Frank’s cock. His vision was starting to swim.  
“I don’t-” Frank tried, faltering. He could do little other than gasp and buck his hips. Gerard was so beside himself he felt like he would start to turn right then and there on the bed, with Frank still on him.  
“You don’t want to come yet?” Gerard breathed.  
Frank weakly shook his head, but never slowed his pace. He breathing grew increasingly erratic. He was all Gerard could smell, all Gerard could feel.  
“Just come for me, Frankie.” Gerard insisted, squeezing Frank’s cock in between pumps. “I know you want to. Just relax.”  
“But _you-”_ Frank tried.  
“Shhhhh. I’m close too.” Gerard promised in a breathy moan, thrusting hard up against Frank’s frantic bucking. “So close.”  
  
And just like that Frank was spilling cum all over Gerard’s hand and stomach with Gerard’s name on his tongue. Gerard’s vision went white as he let his own orgasm consume him. It was draining, wiping out every conceivable ounce of Gerard’s animalistic drive. He bit his lip to stop himself from letting Frank’s name slide off his tongue.  
  
Frank went limp on top of Gerard, breathing heavily, twitching with the aftershocks.  
“ _Fuck._ ” He whispered, kissing the corner of Gerard’s mouth.  
He slid off of Gerard, and collapsed on the bed beside him, gasping for breath.  
Gerard pulled the condom off, and tossed it in the general direction of the door, swearing he’d remember it later.  
Frank wrapped an arm around Gerard’s waist. There was still cum all over Gerard’s hand. He wanted to lick it off but wasn’t sure how Frank would take it so he apprehensively wiped it off on the sheets.  
“I wasn’t gonna… crash here,” Frank panted. “But is it okay if I… crash here? I’m just so-”  
“You could stay here.” Gerard whispered, rolling onto his side to pull Frank into his arms. “I want you to stay.”  
“I'll be gone before morning” Frank promised.  
It almost broke Gerard’s heart. Almost. If Gerard had a heart to break it would’ve broken.  
“Don't.” Gerard requested, trying to make light of the topic, "Stay."   
Frank regarded him with a hopeless look.  
“We'll figure it out tomorrow.” Gerard whispered, kissing Frank’s cheek. He brushed Frank’s hair out of his face with his fingertips and pressed a soft kiss to Frank’s lips, hoping to seal his promise.  
“Okay. Well…” Frank sighed apprehensively.  
“I want you to stay, Frank.” Gerard repeated softly, hugging Frank tighter. He didn't know what the fuck he was even saying, “Just stay.”  
He didn’t know how many different ways he’d have to say it to convince the punk, but he’d say it every way if it meant Frank would just keep his delicious, sweaty form in the bed beside Gerard.  
Just when Gerard thought the monster inside him was satiated, he involuntarily ran his tongue up Frank’s neck, licking off the beads of sweat.  
“ _Gross_.” Frank smiled, too tired to laugh. “I’m gonna pretend you didn't just do that.”  
He closed his eyes and nestled against Gerard’s pillows.

"We should... do this again sometime." Gerard said, stroking Frank's hair.   
“You’re down?” Frank asked.   
“I'm down.” Gerard said.  
"Weird." Frank breathed.   
Gerard couldn’t help the awkward feeling that washed over him as he realized Frank was still incredibly bitter about what Gerard had done.  
  
  
“ _I’m so sorry._ ” He thought over and over but didn’t have the guts to actually voice.  
~  
  
Gerard didn’t remember falling asleep.  
Which was why things felt completely normal when he stretched his aching limbs out across the mattress, twisting and letting his spine click.  
The second thoughts of Frank and last night came rushing into his mind, Gerard quickly realized Frank wasn’t in the bed with him. The room still smelled like Frank so if he’d left it had been just moments ago. He slid out of the bed silently, listening for any hint that Frank was still in the apartment.   
Frank’s clothes weren’t on the floor which meant Gerard had somehow slept through him getting dressed, or picking them off the floor to put on in the other room.  
He thought he heard his toilet flush so he slipped down his cold hallway silently, shivering as the cool air lapped at his skin. He leaned against the wall opposite the bathroom. The cold paint against his skin shocked him awake.   
This would be awkward no matter what since Frank was evidently intent on giving Gerard a taste of his own medicine. Gerard wished he had fucking boxers on or something. He'd never felt so unprepared.   
  
He braced himself as he heard the bathroom door open, followed by Frank’s footsteps. He already had his shoes on, Gerard noted. If Frank wanted to get good at sneaking out after one-night-stands he’d have to learn a thing or two about his exit strategies. Gerard had more than a few pointers to offer.   
He heard Frank sigh.   
“Gerard-” He started.   
Gerard snapped his gaze up toward a flushed, exhausted-looking face. Frank wore a troubled expression as he looked Gerard over.   
“I’m all for you giving me a taste of my own medicine...” Gerard said, taking a step towards Frank.  
Frank blinked at him, pressing his lips together in a tight, nervous line.  
  
“You don’t even have to stay for breakfast if you don’t want to, but…” Gerard continued, reaching out and tracing his fingers along the side of Frank’s face, “At least let me blow you again before you go. We could leave things on a positive note.”  
Frank looked just plain confused. Gerard couldn’t blame him...  
“I’m in the middle of trying to sneak out on you and you’re offering to…?” Frank broke off thoughtfully, “I really don’t understand how your mind works.”  
“So?” Gerard shrugged.   
He took another step forward and pressed his lips to Frank’s. Frank hesitated a moment before kissing back. The punk quickly melted, running his hands over Gerard's chest.   
He let Gerard ease him back towards the bedroom.

"I thought we'd worked this out." Gerard asked, helping Frank pull his t-shirt over his head, "You were gonna stay."   
Frank bit at Gerard's neck instead of answering, which was fair. Frank didn't wanna talk about it.   
Gerard worked at the button on Frank's jeans. He only needed to get them down past his hips, not off. He followed Frank onto the bed. 

"Have I told you you're fucking delicious." Gerard asked as he worked his way down. His lips pressed against the ink on Frank's hips.   
Gerard had a hand around Frank's dick. He was already hard.   
They both jumped at the sound of Gerard's front door slamming.  
“ **Gerard there better be a fucking good reason why you’re still in bed this fucking close to the moonrise!** ” A familiar voice Gerard quickly recognized as Mikey’s shouted.  
They both froze.  
“Fuck.” Gerard hissed, suddenly realizing what day it was. He pulled the sheets over the both of them and blinked.  
  
Mikey, naturally, had an extra key for emergencies like this. The last thing anyone needed was a werewolf loose in New York City. Mikey saw it as his civil duty to keep his werewolf of a brother in check when he slept in too close to the full moon.  
“I don’t smell coffee either! There better be a good reason you didn’t set the timer last night!” He called, making his way into the kitchen to start the coffee himself, like always.  
“What is your brother doing here?” Frank whispered nervously.  
“GERARD?! OUT OF BED!” Mikey yelled, “ **NOW!** WE HAVE LIKE 4 HOURS TO GET OUT OF THE CITY AND THERE’S _TRAFFIC!_ ”  
Mikey finally made it to doorway to Gerard’s bedroom, eyes falling on Gerard and Frank, who were huddled up, just sort of dumbly hugging each other.  
“Okay, what the fuck?” Mikey asked, “Like, sorry, but also what. the. fuck?”  
“Uh… Hi, Mikey.” Frank said coyly.  
Mikey couldn’t hear him. He was walking away as quickly as he could without running.  
“Frank, I thought you hated Gerard!?” He called. “Wait! Nevermind! _Don’t answer that!”_  
Frank just giggled.   
Gerard felt a little pang of sorrow. Had Frank really told Mikey that he _hated_ Gerard?  
“Aren’t you, like, supposed to put a hat on the door or something?” Mikey called. His voice was faint enough that Gerard reasoned he was all the way in the kitchen, “Wait! _Don’t answer that either!_ Just… Do you guys want coffee?”  
Frank buried his face in sheets, trying to stifle his laughter.  
“Yes please!” Gerard called out. He pressed a kiss to the top of Frank’s head.  
"I didn't know his voice could even get that loud." Frank mused.   
“Frank do you need me to… finish you off?” Gerard offered, still vaguely desperate for the taste of Frank’s cum in a way he didn’t totally understand.  
“No uh… your brother walking in on us was kind of a… mood killer.” Frank said, holding back a laugh.  
“Yeah.” Gerard sighed.  
“So you guys have to get out of here pretty quick then?” Frank asked, "It sounds kind of... urgent."   
“Yeah, we kinda do.” Gerard said.  
“Gerard!?” Mikey called from the other end of the apartment, “You have like 5 minutes to get dressed and say goodbye to Frank! We don’t have time for coffee here! We’ll have to stop at Starbucks on the way.”  
“Sorry about this.” Gerard said softly, “I didn't realize what today was.”  
Frank slid out of the bed and pulled his shirt back on. Gerard frowned as he kissed Frank’s stretch of pretty tattoos goodbye.  
“Maybe next time-”  
“Next time?” Frank asked skeptically, sliding his jeans back onto his hips.   
“Yeah?” Gerard said, incredulous, sliding off of the bed and pulling Frank into a hug. His cool clothes felt weird against Gerard’s bare skin.  
“3 MINUTES!” Mikey yelled, “I MEAN IT!”  
“Where are you guys going anyways?” Frank asked, furrowing his brow.  
“It's a… _vacation_.” Gerard nodded, trying to sound convincing.  
“Your brother said something about moonrise?” Frank asked.  
“Ah… _yes. **Stargazing**_ **.** He’s very serious about it. Has been since we were little.” Gerard nodded. He pulled away from Frank and grabbed a clean sweatshirt off a hook on his open closet door. He looked around for his jeans from the night before, spotting the black denim poking out from under the bed and reaching for it.  
“He’s never mentioned stargazing before?” Franked pointed out skeptically.  
“Yes well um… he likes to be on time.” Gerard said, slipping into his pants, “We’re meeting some relatives and-”  
“He’s late for work like, _every day._ ” Frank countered.  
“Well maybe if our aunt worked at the label with you guys… he wouldn’t be? He hates making her upset. Lot’s of… cheek pinching.” Gerard offered, scratching the back of his head. He was really grasping for straws. Gerard knew Frank could tell something was off, Frank raised his eyebrow in a look of pure skepticism.  
“Anyways, I want to see you again. When I’m back in town... Coffee?” Gerard asked.  
“I think I might be emotionally scarred from ever getting coffee with anyone ever again. Maybe we could do a movie or something?” Frank asked.  
“Sure! Yes! Perfect!” Gerard said, trying to hold back his excitement and impending heartbreak all at once.  
Frank shrugged on his coat and headed for the door. Gerard lunged for him, grabbing his wrist before he could leave the room.  
“Frank, wait!” Gerard whispered.  
“What?” Frank asked, somewhat irritable. He had a million good reasons to be annoyed and Gerard wasn’t sure which one had finally gotten to him.  
“Last night was… really nice. I… I’ll call you, okay? I promise.” Gerard said.  
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Frank said bitterly.  
“I will. I want to see you again. Really.” Gerard insisted.  
“Well if you-”  
Gerard interrupted him by pressing his lips against Frank’s, wrapping his arms around Frank’s neck. Frank kissed him back sort of apprehensively.  
“I want to see you again.” Gerard repeated against Frank's lips, “I’ll call you.”  
“Okay.” Frank nodded, pulling back. His lips twitched at an attempted smile.  
“ **Gerard! We have to _fucking go!_** ” Mikey yelled.  
Frank slipped out of Gerard’s grasp and Gerard let him. He followed Frank down the hallway at a respectable distance. He toed into his shoes, staring at his impatient brother.  
The three of them walked down to the street in silence. Gerard would never look at the stairwell the same, not after the way Frank had kissed him there the night before. His brain was already cataloging all the places he'd never hooked up, all over his building. It was new and exciting territory. There was a laundry machine in the basement he could totally bend Frank over...  
  
Mikey’s car was parked right outside of the building, in the loading zone, with the hazard lights on.   
“Bye, Frank!” Gerard called as Frank turned towards the direction of the nearest subway station.  
Gerard wanted to kiss him again, one last time before the misery of being a werewolf consumed the next 5 days of his life, but Frank looked incredibly uninterested.  
“Later.” He said coolly spinning on his heels and making his getaway from the two brothers. Gerard sort of wished Frank could come with them, even though there were a million reasons he couldn’t. He sighed as he watched Frank get smaller and smaller, his smell wafting in the breeze back towards Gerard, getting fainter and fainter. He slid into the passenger’s seat somewhat apprehensively.  
He immediately pulled down the little mirror in the ceiling to survey the damage to his neck. If there had been hickies, they'd mostly healed by now, superhealing and all. Vague purple marks trailed all over Gerard's collar bone. The place where Frank had bit him, not 20 minutes ago was still tender.   
“So…” Mikey started, sliding into the driver’s seat. Gerard quickly snapped the mirror shut.   
“You don’t wanna know.” Gerard sighed.


	6. You Said You'd Call

For the fourth morning in a row Gerard woke up on the cold, concrete floor in the basement of the Way family summer home. The cruel, blinding sunlight streaming in through the small rectangular window at the top of the wall served as a sign that he had survived another night.  
It also made his head hurt.  
He got up slowly, stretching and breathing through the fiery pain threatening his muscles.  
A bath towel and a glass of water sat at the bottom of the stairs. He wrapped the towel over his shivering shoulders and very slowly, very carefully made his way up the stairs. He crossed the hall and slumped into the bath Mikey had drawn for him, carefully working at the clumps of dried blood and fur that he had shed throughout the night. The water quickly tinted a murky, rusty color as the blood clots loosened and slid off, revealing shallow gashes that were quickly closing and healing up.  
Mikey had added eucalyptus to the bath water. It was so soothing and familiar that Gerard quickly fell asleep, sinking down until the warm water covered his shoulders. He rested his head against the the cold lip of the tub, knowing it would be much more comfortable to lie down in a bed, but unable to make himself get up.  
He could barely remember himself when Mikey came into the bathroom to wake him up and help him out of the tub some time later.  
He halfheartedly dried off before collapsing on the pull-out-bed in the living room to sleep deep and dreamlessly until it was time for Mikey to lock him up again.  
  
Later that night Gerard panted weakly on the same cold floor in the basement. The icy concrete felt almost soothing against his sweaty, feverish skin. Every thread of muscle protested as the transition began it’s takeover. He wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his aching wrist and tried to keep his mind off the nausea.  
The pain was the worst thing Gerard had ever experienced. He never got used to it.  
His ribs split apart. The hair on his arms thickened, pushing through the skin in a tearing sensation that burned like hot coals. His shoulders contorted down and back with horrific snapping sounds.  
His entire anatomy was agonizingly rearranged as he laid there, closing his eyes and desperately trying to pretend it wasn’t happening. In his head he was somewhere far away. In a quiet room with lots of paint and an endless supply of booze. Gerard thought of Frank then. Fuck alcohol and paint. Gerard just wanted a quiet room with Frank in it.  
  
_He still hadn’t called Frank_ and Frank was just going to have to hate him for it.  
It was just such a shame, Gerard thought, that he kept fucking things up with Frank because Frank was the only thing Gerard could think about in those moments before he was lost in a sea of wolfish impulses.  
~  
  
Frank would be a liar if he said he hadn’t been checking his phone more often than was necessary since he left Gerard’s place. His heart fluttered every time he thought about the way Gerard had pulled him close and told him that he wanted to see him again. That he’d _call._  
Frank hadn’t thought anything of it when Gerard didn’t call the first night. There was this waiting game people often played when they liked someone. Frank thought that perhaps Gerard was trying to take things slow. Gerard didn’t seem like he ever took _anything_ slowly, but Frank could still believe it somehow. He wanted to believe Gerard had a good reason. But then Gerard hadn’t called the night after that or the night after that.  
It had been 5 nights and he still hadn’t called.  
_Gerard wasn’t going to call and Frank hated him for it._  
  
Gerard had said he was going out of town and his credentials checked out. Mikey had called out of the office, sending out an e-mail to all the staff at the record label saying he would be working remotely from a location outside of the city with bad cell reception. After that, Frank felt a little ridiculous for getting so upset. Even still, it seemed unlikely that Gerard had gone somewhere that didn’t even have fucking _payphones._  
Gerard could have called if he wanted to.  
  
Frank wanted nothing more than to stop checking his phone and sighing dramatically when no word came from the older Way. He wanted to be done with Gerard and his incredible capacity for disappointment.  
  
Of course, the moment Frank decided he’d had enough he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He pulled it out of his pocket and checked the number. He couldn’t tell if he was surprised or not to find that it was Gerard calling.  
He took a deep breath and prepared to let it ring and go to voicemail.  
One ring.  
Two rings.  
Three rings.  
But Frank wanted a fucking _explanation_. After spending the last 5 days irritable and disappointed he **_deserved_** an explanation.  
“Hi.” Frank huffed, answering the call.  
“Frank?” Gerard’s familiar scratchy voice asked.  
“Gerard.” Frank echoed coldly.  
“How are you?” Gerard asked hoarsely.  
“I been better.” Frank mumbled.  
“Oh… I’m sorry. Is this a bad time?” Gerard asked, clearing his throat.  
“It’s always a bad time, Gerard.” Frank sighed.  
“Oh… right well… I was calling to see if you still wanted to catch a movie or something.”  
“There aren’t any movies playing that I want to see.” Frank countered. It probably wasn’t true. Frank hadn’t checked movie times, didn't even know what was in theaters right now, but that didn’t matter. Frank wasn’t about to go on a fucking _date_ with Gerard.  
“...Well, maybe we could-”  
“Gerard, you can’t just call me up when it’s convenient for you and act like everything’s fine. You said you’d call and-” Frank faltered.  
“Ah. I had a feeling you might be upset with me.” Gerard tutted. “Look, I was- was… um… _incapacitated_ for the last couple of days.”  
“ _Incapacitated_?“ Frank repeated skeptically. “What the fuck kind of excuse is that?”  
“A poor one.” Gerard agreed casually. “But it’s the only one I can give you... I really want to see you. Are you busy?”  
“Depends.” Frank sighed.  
“On what?” Gerard pressed.  
“If you’re just looking to hook up… I’m not interested.” Frank said flatly.  
Gerard hummed softly.  
“Well I’m not like, _opposed_ to the idea of hooking up… “ Gerard finally said. “But I’m a bit too tired for anything like that. I was kinda hoping you’d wanna come over and like, hang out? We could watch a movie... or listen to music and talk or something?”  
Frank just blushed and shook his head. Gerard was the weirdest fucking person he had ever spoken to. He was too collected and polite about everything.  
“Frank?” Gerard asked softly.  
Frank realized he hadn’t said anything. He bit his lip thoughtfully.  
“Okay… “ Frank said softly, grimacing at his own lack of self control. He’d just wanted an explanation and now he’d agreed to see Gerard.  
“Really?” Gerard breathed.  
“Yeah… um… I’ll get on the next train.” Frank sighed.  
“Cool. You remember where it is or you want me to text you the address?” Gerard asked.  
“I remember where it is.” Frank said quickly. “See you soon.” He hung up before he could change his mind. He stared at his phone for a moment, seriously considering calling Gerard back and telling him he couldn’t come over.  
He wondered if he should’ve lied about remembering where Gerard’s place was. He wished he could carry himself with the same casual, obliviousness that Gerard always seemed to possess.  
  
There was a lot of cursing after that.  
Frank cursed himself as he pulled on a warm jacket and toed into his shoes. He cursed himself as he slipped a few DVDs he thought Gerard might like in his backpack. He cursed himself as he was locking his apartment. He cursed himself as he walked down the street and down into the subway tunnel. He cursed himself as he sat on a bench in the subway car, pulling his headphones on and putting on the angriest, most distracting music on his Ipod. He tapped his hands nervously on his knees while the train screeched from stop to stop across town.  
He got off the train, took the stairs to another platform and caught a train running express uptown. With each stop the train made, Frank very seriously considered getting off and catching the next train in the direction towards home. He was so distracted by thoughts of not following through with going to see Gerard that he very nearly missed the stop that Gerard's apartment was off of.  
Which, _wouldn’t have been such a bad idea,_ Frank thought as he hurried off the train. He could’ve easily taken the train a few stops too far and then caught another train back home. He’d just call Gerard and say he hadn’t remembered correctly after all and had gotten horribly lost and given up.  
The sun had gone down and Frank honestly had felt turned around for a moment as he tried to remember which direction Gerard’s street was. He zipped his jacket the rest of the way up, pulling the collar tightly around his neck, and buried his hands in his pockets. After a few minutes of wandering uncertainly through the chilly, windy, winter evening, Gerard’s looming apartment building came into view.  
Frank was tight with nerves as he climbed the steps to the entrance of the building. He hesitated with his index finger hovering over the button with the small “G. Way” label beside it. He had come so far it seemed silly to turn around. Even so he wanted nothing more than to turn around anyways and forget Gerard and everything about his strangeness.  
Frank dropped his hand just short of pushing the button and turned on his heels, starting back down the steps.  
Fuck mysterious boys and their incredible capacities for disappointment. Frank still wondered if his mother was right. Maybe women were easier to deal with than this. He sort of doubted it.   
“Frank, wait!” a familiar voice yelled. Frank froze and spun around carefully.  
Gerard was bounding down the stairs, quickly closing the space between them and pulling Frank into his arms. Frank inhaled sharply and held his breath. He didn’t hug Gerard back, but he didn’t pull away either. He just stood there and let Gerard hug him tightly as the wind whipped violently around them.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?" Gerard breathed.   
Frank realized then, that he hadn’t needed an explanation for why Gerard hadn’t called, he needed proof that Gerard gave a fuck. He wasn't sure he had it, but this was a start.   
“How did I know you’d change your mind?” Gerard laughed. His breath was a welcome warmth in Frank’s hair.  
“I changed my mind a thousand times on the way over here.” Frank admitted softly. His voice was so light that his confession was almost carried away on the wind.  
“Well I hope you changed it again in the last 15 seconds. Come inside, it’s freezing out here.” Gerard said through chattering teeth, pulling out of the hug and tugging on Frank’s arm. Frank noticed Gerard wasn’t wearing a jacket, just a thin, long-sleeved black shirt. It fit him quite nicely.  
  
Frank allowed himself to be dragged inside and up several flights of stairs to Gerard’s apartment.  
“Can I get you anything?” Gerard asked, glancing over his shoulder at Frank as he walked down the hall in the direction of the kitchen. Or, Frank assumed it was the direction of the kitchen. He’d never actually been in that part of Gerard’s apartment. Just the hallway he was standing in now, the bathroom and... Gerard’s bedroom  
Frank’s heart fluttered. This was a terrible idea. He shouldn't be here.   
Gerard spun around, hesitating when Frank stared at him blankly instead of answering.  
“I just made coffee but I don’t have any ah… substitutes for milk. Do you take it black?” Gerard asked, raising an eyebrow.  
“Um… just a little sugar is fine” Frank said softly, surprised Gerard had remembered he was vegan.  
Gerard just nodded, spinning back around and disappearing into a doorway down the hall.  
“Make yourself at home.” Gerard’s voice echoed through the apartment.


	7. Vanished

 

It took Frank a moment to step away from the front door. He told himself he was still in control of the situation, that he could still leave if and when he wanted to. He listened to the sound of mugs clinking, coffee pouring, Gerard’s hum as he looked around for the sugar.  
He slowly, silently pulled off his coat and hung it on a free hook beside one of Gerard’s coats. He kicked off his shoes and turned into the first doorway along the hall. It was a living room of sorts, with a couch and a TV and an incredible amount of books on floor-to-ceiling shelves lining the room.  
Frank perched on the edge of the couch and stared vacantly at the DVD cases cluttering every surface surrounding the TV. He glanced over at the bookshelves, which he realized were lined with comics and graphic novels. Frank sighed. It all reminded Frank of the person he thought Gerard had been the first time.  
He still was that person, Frank supposed. He just had a lot less regard for other people’s emotions than Frank has initially thought he would.  
Gerard had left the TV on the local news. He couldn’t picture Gerard watching the news for some reason. It was weird to picture Gerard doing anything mundane because Gerard himself didn’t seem very mundane.  
“So um, do you want the mermaid mug or the purple mug?” Gerard asked, slowly walking into the room with two very full mugs of coffee.  
“I don’t care.” Frank said, scooting over so that Gerard could sit beside him on the couch. Frank couldn’t look at Gerard. Gerard made Frank nervous. He didn't know what to do with Gerard when the point of them being together wasn't something physical. He didn't know what they were supposed to talk about, how he was supposed to act. They sat across from each other, socks almost touching.  
“Well in that case I’ll give you the purple mug.” Gerard huffed, setting the mug in front of Frank on the coffee table. “The purple one holds more coffee but the mermaid one is more fun to drink out of.”  
“Well… thank you.” Frank said, eyeing the mug Gerard placed in front of himself on the coffee table. The handle was a mermaid’s body. It didn’t look _that_ fun to drink out of, Frank thought.  
“There’s shells on the inside of the cup.” Gerard elaborated further.  
“Oh… _of course._ ” Frank said sarcastically.   
“Shut up.” Gerard said, grinning back.   
Frank looked up at Gerard, then. He had a lopsided grin and long, thin cut on his cheek. It must’ve been a few days old, as it had scabbed over.  
“How did you get that?” Frank asked, pointing to his own cheek for reference.  
“Oh. This?” Gerard asked, reaching up and tapping at the cut.  
Frank nodded.  
“Mikey and I were… wandering through the woods and I sort of… lost a fight with a thorn bush.” Gerard said, running his finger over the length of the cut.  
“What on earth were you doing in the woods in the dead of winter?” Frank asked conversationally.  
“My family has a summer home upstate.” Gerard explained. “There was this meteor shower and Mikey and I hiked up to this peak to get a better view.”  
“You went hiking at night?” Frank asked. “Who does that?”  
“We do, I guess?” Gerard shrugged.  
“I just never would’ve pinned Mikey as an outdoorsy type.” Frank noted. “I have a hard time getting him to even come outside for a cigarette most days.”  
“How long have you worked with him? At the record label? You were bartending when we first… _met._ ” Gerard said, lifting his mug off the table and taking a sip. He never took his eyes off of Frank.  
“I’m surprised you remember.” Frank blurted out before he could stop himself.  
Gerard’s lips twitched into a soft frown.  
“I was working for the label back then. I uh… bartend on the side.” Frank continued. “It’s just glorified office work. I spend more time on the phone with rental companies and answering e-mails than I do anything musical. It's a good way to meet people and like, get into shows for free, though. I can't complain.”  
Frank reached for his mug and took a sip of his coffee. It was still scalding hot but it was good. Gerard didn’t go for the sludgy cheap shit.  
“I wish I hadn’t gone home with you that night…” Gerard said softly.  
Frank almost spat his coffee out. Instead, he swallowed the burning liquid and glared at Gerard.  
“Which night?” Frank asked.   
“That first night… when you were bartending.” Gerard said calmly, like he hadn’t just said the most hurtful thing imaginable. He was glancing around the room, not meeting Frank’s gaze.  
“Why?” Frank asked softly. He was 10 seconds away from setting the cup down and leaving. Gerard didn't even seem aware he was being a dick.   
“It’s not that I didn't _enjoy myself._ ” Gerard explained. “I just remember thinking you were cool… You _are_ cool.” He amended. “And I just… if I hadn’t gone home with you I feel like we could’ve been.. friends.” Gerard set his mug down on the coffee table.  
“We still could be?” Frank pointed out bitterly. His voice had disappeared and he wasn’t sure if it was the hot coffee he swallowed or the feeling in his chest that very closely resembled the feeling of wanting to cry.  
“I don't think you wanna be friends. You keep looking at me like you hate me and I don’t know how to fix it.” Gerard said weakly. He rested his head against the back of the couch and stared at Frank.  
Frank shrugged and set his own mug down and hugged his knees tightly against his chest. He pressed his mouth against his knees to hide his frown. He refused to see things the way Gerard was seeing them. Frank didn't want to be friends because Gerard would probably make a terrible friend. He was selfish and unreliable. He hadn't called when he said he would. Watching Gerard go out and hook up with everyone that wasn't him would just make Frank jealous. Frank didn't wanna feel jealous or let down or used. He already felt that way. It seemed pointless to continue a relationship with someone who would only hurt him. 

“I can tell you I’m sorry. I can try and make it up to you somehow…” Gerard went on, “But you’ll still think I’m a fucking asshole.”  
“Well maybe you’re just inherently an asshole.” Frank said, with more venom than he had meant to, “Maybe it has nothing to do with me.”  
Gerard smiled at him then, and Frank was even more confused and saddened.  
“Mikey tells me that all the time.” Gerard said fondly.  
He considered Frank with a sad look. Frank almost felt sorry for Gerard because he seemed genuinely oblivious.  
“I didn’t mean to upset you.” Gerard said softly.  
“You didn’t.” Frank lied, closing his eyes and breathing in deeply.  
“Okay.” Gerard mumbled, taking a deep breath.  
  
They were quiet for a moment then.  
  
“Frank,” Gerard continued. “I never meant to-”  
“Shut up.” Frank interrupted weakly. “Can we talk about something else?”  
“Sure…” Gerard agreed. “You want to watch a movie?”  
Frank nodded, training his gaze away from Gerard. He stared into a shelf of graphic novels, all with the same yellow spine, part of a series. He felt Gerard’s weight lift off the couch.  
“What do you want to watch?” Gerard asked.  
“I don’t care. I like ghost stories.” Frank mumbled.  
“I can work with that.” Gerard said.  
Frank listened as Gerard shuffled the DVD cases around. He cursed under his breath when he popped one open. Frank figured the DVD was was missing. There was more sliding of plastic on plastic and then the click of another case opening. Frank focused on his breathing as he heard the DVD tray make it’s whirring sound as it slid back into the DVD player.  
The light overhead went out. Gerard’s weight returned beside Frank on the couch. Gerard felt closer to Frank than he had been before. He delicately wrapped an arm around Frank, confirming Frank's observation. Frank didn’t know if it made him feel comforted or captivated, or maybe some messed up combination of both.   
Frank let himself relax against Gerard’s side. Gerard balanced his mug of coffee on his knee with his other hand. Frank stared at the mermaid by the light of the TV screen.   
Gerard was warm. He had this sweet, comforting scent to him. Like laundry and cigarettes and something else Frank couldn't quite place. Frank wasn't sure if he should run away or lean further into Gerard. His brain and his heart were sending him mixed signals.   
Frank didn’t recognize the movie Gerard had put on. The actors were all speaking Japanese and Frank was too distracted to read the subtitles. He could kind of follow the plot without understanding the dialogue. There were lots of scenes in a hospital with eerie lighting and a pale little girl in a blood-spattered hospital gown.  
Frank reached over and grabbed Gerard’s mug, taking a gulp of coffee and balancing it on his own knee.  
“See? Told you it’s more fun to drink out of.” Gerard whispered.  
“I guess…” Frank agreed hoarsely.  
The protagonist in the film wandered into a dark room in the hospital. Frank watched in horror, biting his tongue from yelling, “ _How stupid can you be!? Turn around!”_  
Just then, the blood spattered girl jumped out from behind an operating table and Frank gasped, nearly spilling Gerard’s coffee all over his lap.  
Gerard let out a breathy laugh and squeezed Frank’s shoulder.

“Gerard?” Frank mumbled timidly after a few careful breaths.  
“Yeah?” He whispered back.  
“I’m sorry for like, being such a jerk or whatever.” Frank mumbled.  
“Don’t apologize for that.” Gerard insisted, "I've been a jerk too."   
“Okay.” Frank whispered, finishing Gerard’s coffee in another gulp.  
“Then... I’m sorry for drinking all your coffee.” Frank mumbled.  
Gerard chuckled then, wrapping his free arm around Frank and hugging him. He buried his face in Frank’s hair and breathed him in.  
“I can’t believe you let me think that I’m not a good lay.” Frank sighed, letting out a breathy laugh in spite of himself, "Even for a second."   
“ _I never said that._ ” Gerard countered softly, nuzzling into Frank’s neck.  
“Well, you said you wished you'd never gone home with me.” Frank pointed out. “Which could’ve easily been interpreted that way.”  
“I’m . _..sorry?_  We've already established that I'm an asshole.” Gerard said softly.  
“Such a fucking asshole.” Frank agreed fondly.  
"Anyways I didn't mean it like that." Gerard said, "Frank, you're... _great._ " 

Frank gawked at Gerard then. Gerard just pursed his lips in embarrassment. 

“My point...” Gerard faltered. “Was that I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. I wasn't trying to.”  
Frank just sighed in defeat, moving his gaze to the TV screen.  
“You’re _good_  though.” Gerard reassured against Frank’s ear, "I'd definitely..."   
Gerard didn't finish his sentence but Frank didn't need him to. His heart was fluttering like crazy. He felt a blush creep up on his cheeks and he was suddenly incredibly thankful for the darkness of the room. Frank didn’t know what to do so he did, and said, absolutely nothing. He tensed up in Gerard’s arms and let the silence take over, redirecting his attention to the movie.  
“Sorry if that was the wrong thing to say...” Gerard whispered after a few moments, taking his arm off of Frank's chest, leaving the other still casually wrapped around Frank’s shoulders.  
“Um no… thank you for saying so.” Frank said softly, blushing harder and swallowing loudly.  
Frank let himself get lost in the movie then, sort of reading the dialogue a little more closely. His heart was pounding and he was trying not to scream like a girl towards the end of the film. He looked over at Gerard who had been silent and relaxed the whole time.  
The fucker was fast asleep. His head rested against the back of the couch. His mouth was open slightly, with peaceful breaths flowing in and out. Frank nudged Gerard with his elbow but he didn’t stir.  
Frank looked back at the movie and was completely horrified by what he saw. He buried his face in Gerard’s chest through the scary parts. What kind of asshole went to sleep during the scariest part of the movie?  
Frank tried looking at the screen again but quickly got too scared. He covered his eyes with his hands and peaked through his fingers when he felt brave.  
The ending of the movie was sad and unresolved, leaving Frank feeling like there was a real curse out there in the world that could get him and rip him apart, swallowing his body parts in a sea of darkness.  
“Did I fall asleep?” Gerard croaked, lifting his head up.  
“Yes.” Frank snapped.  
“What’s wrong?” Gerard asked, sitting up and turning to face Frank.  
“Who the fuck sleeps through the scariest part of the movie? Honestly!?” Frank scoffed.  
Gerard smiled at him and pulled Frank into his arms.  
“I was scared, you jerk.” Frank whispered, relishing in Gerard's warmth.  
“There's not much I would be able to do about an ancient evil curse anyways.” Gerard laughed into the crook of Frank's neck. “I’m gonna make more coffee, okay?”  
“There’s some left in my mug.” Frank offered.  
“It’s probably cold.” Gerard said, pulling away and getting up off the couch to stretch. His joints made a series of sickening popping noises that made Frank cringe.  
“There’s something I wanted to show you. Mikey said you like Morrissey as much as I do.” Gerard said, lifting his arms over his head and stretching them out.  
He crossed the room and slid his fingers along a shelf of LPs until he found the one he wanted and pulled it out.  
“Mikey gave me this for my birthday last year.” He held up a particularly worn-looking record sleeve.  
Frank got up slowly, stretching and crossing the room to take a better look.  
“It’s a live recording from just after _Strangeways Here We Come_ was released. Morrissey literally starts crying in the middle of ‘ _Last Night I Dreamt Somebody Loved Me’_. It’s unreal.” Gerard explained, sliding the record onto a turntable and handing Frank a pair of bulky headphones to Frank.  
“Sounds better on headphones.” Gerard mumbled. “I’m gonna go make coffee while you listen.” He dropped the needle onto the record, gave Frank a small weak smile, and stepped out of the room.  
Frank listened carefully to the record. It probably did sound better on the large headphones. Headphones this large were usually intended for use in recording studios. They picked up every little detail of the mix, every layer of sound. Frank had no idea what Gerard was doing with them. They must’ve cost him a fortune.  
Gerard returned when Frank was halfway through an extended version of ‘ _I Won’t Share You’_  
He smiled at Gerard, leaving the headphones on. Gerard set the fresh cups of coffee on the desk beside the turntable. The smell of fresh coffee filled the space around them.  
Gerard grabbed Frank's hand. His fingers squeezed Frank’s gently. His thumb brushed over the back of Frank’s hand.  
This was the unfair part, Frank realized. He wanted Gerard to be like this with him all the time.  
He pictured Gerard in this same room with someone else. Like that bartender he’d been flirting with the other night. Or any of Frank and Mikey’s other coworkers at the label who had told Frank that Mikey’s older brother was cute.  
Frank didn’t want to share Gerard. _He wanted Gerard all to himself._  
When he thought about Gerard going out and sleeping with other people he felt jealous. Gerard had probably been with people who were better looking than Frank. Or smarter than him. Or cooler than him.  
Frank wanted someone he could have all to himself and Gerard could never be that for him. It was pointless to even try to make Gerard his. Gerard wasn’t the kind to get involved with people like that.  
This was the part in their evening where, if Gerard wasn’t a fucking promiscuous asshole, they might kiss. Frank looked at Gerard’s lips then, not sure why he hadn’t left Gerard's apartment yet. Nothing was keeping him there. Gerard was a dead end of a person.  
Frank held his breath as Gerard inched closer, leaning in to kiss him...  
  
Frank wasn’t having any of it.  
He tore the headphones off, pulled his hand out of Gerard’s and glared at the wolfish man in front of him.  
“ _Do not even kiss me._ ” Frank snapped.  
“I’m sorry… I thought you wanted me to?” Gerard said, swallowing hard. “You were looking at me all dreamy and-”  
“No. I mean… I have coffee breath.” Frank lied, not wanting to argue about it.  
“Oh.” Gerard smiled. “I don’t care. I probably have coffee breath too.”  
He started leaning towards Frank again, taking Frank’s hand in his again.  
“ **I have to go**.” Frank insisted, pulling away from Gerard and heading for the door.  
“Frank, I’m sorry! I promise I won’t try anything like that again.” Gerard said, following him into the hallway.  
Frank sighed and pulled on his coat.  
“No… I just… I remembered... something I have to do.” Frank stammered, not sure why he wasn’t just telling Gerard that he couldn’t stand another second of Gerard’s ridiculous, manipulative bullshit. That he wanted someone he could actually be with. Someone like Gerard, but with genuine feelings and concerns. Someone _capable of love.  
_ “Can I come with you?” Gerard asked, pulling on his coat and sliding into a pair of boots by the door.  
“No.” Frank insisted, toeing into his shoes, not bothering to put them on properly. He stepped on the heels. It would be fine until he got to the subway tunnel.  
“Frank did I do something wrong?” Gerard asked, following Frank out into the main hallway, down the stairs.  
“No. You didn’t.” Frank sighed. “I just have to go.”  
“Alright, well, let me walk you to the train.” Gerard mumbled dejectedly, half a step behind Frank.  
“You don’t have to do that.” Frank said.  
“I want to.” Gerard insisted.  
They reached the lobby and Frank shouldered out the front door and into the cold. A light dusting of snow covered the ground. It crunched under their feet as Frank continued walking at a steady pace.  
“Jesus, it’s fucking cold out here.” Gerard hissed.  
“I sort of _hate_ winter sometimes.” Frank agreed coldly, hoping Gerard would take the hint.  
Gerard just threaded his arm through Frank’s and walked beside him in uncomfortable silence.  
  
“Can I see you again?” Gerard asked when they reached the entrance to the subway station.  
“I don’t know.” Frank mumbled, glancing around the busy intersection, looking at anything and everything that wasn’t Gerard.  
“Look… I promise I’ll try to be a better friend to you.” Gerard said softly, pulling Frank in for a hug.  
“We’re not friends.” Frank said, hugging him back and pressing a kiss to Gerard’s cheek.  
“ _Not_ friends. Got it.” Gerard whispered.  
“Call me.” Frank requested, finally meeting Gerard’s gaze.  
Gerard's eyes lit up at the suggestion.  
“I will.” Gerard said eagerly. “I promise.”  
Frank nodded, biting his lip to keep himself from reminding Gerard that he hated when people made promises they didn’t intend to keep.  
He pulled away from Gerard and spun on his heels, wandering down a staircase leading into the warm subway tunnel. Gerard stood there in the snow, watching Frank until he disappeared around a bend in the stairs.

Frank didn't look back at Gerard, not once.  
  
It wasn’t until Frank’s train was a few stops short of his apartment that it hit him:  
The cut on Gerard’s cheek had somehow vanished by the time Frank had kissed him goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dedicate this update to commenter-Gabe <3


	8. Stop Making Sense

There had absolutely been a cut on Gerard’s cheek when Frank had come over. Frank was sure of it. They had even talked about it. Gerard had said he scratched his face while hiking at night… which made less sense the more Frank thought about it. Frank had never heard of anyone ever hiking at night. He felt stupid for buying it.  
Frank tried to rationalize the wound’s disappearance to himself in his mind as the train continued along the tracks towards. He stared out the window into the darkness of the subway tunnel. His reflection was a faint, wilted outline against the glass.  
It wasn’t impossible to suggest that Frank had misremembered which side of Gerard’s face the cut had been on. But when he pictured Gerard’s face on that street corner, he couldn’t visualize any cuts.  
Though the more he thought about it, the less sure he was. The cut could’ve been there the whole time and Frank could’ve been too distracted by the nerves brought on by kissing Gerard goodbye to remember it.  
 _But he would’ve felt the scab under his lips. He would have._  
  
The more Frank had to reassure himself that he wasn’t going crazy, the crazier he felt.  
He stepped off the train and onto the dim platform. He glanced at the empty train tracks and thought he might have seen something in the shadows. Fear curled in his stomach as he walked the length of the platform and up the stairs into the frigid night.  
The movie he had watched at Gerard’s place left him easily frightened. He found himself doing a double take at every shifting shadow. He glanced timidly over his shoulder every couple of paces. He forgot about Gerard’s disappearing injuries entirely when a piece crumpled of newspaper blowing in the wind slid into his line of vision on the sidewalk in front of him, making him squeak in surprise.  
He glanced around, sighing when he confirmed that no one had seen him frightened by a piece of newspaper.  
He was only a few blocks from his apartment, but it suddenly felt like he was miles and miles away. Anyone or any **thing** could snatch him up between the street corner he stood on and the front door to his apartment building. He couldn’t wait to lock himself away in the safety of his apartment. Not that a locked door would keep ancient evil curses out.  
Frank ducked into a corner store about a block away from his apartment. The store was warm and pleasantly populated. He felt less afraid as he paced the aisles, trying to remember if there was anything he needed to pick up. He picked out some cheap beer and a box of herbal tea, knowing both of those things to have calmed him in the past.  
He paid for his groceries and left the store... feeling dread wash over him the second he remembered how alone he was on the dark street. He felt like he was being followed, but with someone else up ahead waiting to jump out and attack him. If anyone asked, his quickening pace had nothing to do with the prospect of a ghost swallowing him.  
He somehow made it the rest of the way to his apartment in one piece, making a point to double-check that he had locked all the locks before cracking open a beer. He guzzled the fowl, carbonated liquid as he went through the apartment, turning all the lights on. Ghosts couldn’t hide in the shadows if there weren’t any shadows to hide in.  
He jumped every time the floorboards creaked under the weight of his neighbors on the level above his. He twitched at every tiny noise he heard. He let out a yelp when water came rushing through a pipe in the wall beside him.  
After that, Frank put on music. It did very little to ease his nerves. He cracked another beer and made himself a cup of tea, eyeing the pantry in the kitchen suspiciously as he waited for the tea water to boil. The light in the pantry had burned out and Frank reasoned that if a ghost were hiding in his apartment, the ghost would hide there. In the dark.  
  
Frank curled up in bed with his beer and his tea and turned on the TV. The voices of the actors in the commercial on the screen calmed him a little but he still felt alone and afraid. He hated feeling so spooked. It was moments like these that he wished the landlord didn’t have such a strict no-pet policy. He remembered ghosts being afraid of cats.  
  
He knew his fear was irrational but the thought did little to comfort him.  
He took another sip of his beer and changed the channel.  
~  
  
  
Gerard sat in his apartment across town, curled up in a little ball on the couch. His whole apartment smelled like Frank, but the spot on the couch where Frank had been sitting smelled _especially_ like Frank.  
He knew it was his fault that Frank had left.  
He couldn’t focus on the movie he had put on because he kept wondering how soon he was allowed to call Frank. He thought about calling Frank to make sure he’d gotten home okay but he wasn’t sure how Frank would interpret it.  
This was why Gerard hated getting involved with people.  
He thought about calling Mikey and asking for advice but that would mean admitting how lost he was.  
Instead, he resolved to sit there, vacantly staring between the TV screen and his phone, while breathing in Frank’s scent for as long as it would linger.  
  
He woke with a start to the sound of his phone ringing.  
He blinked a few times in drowsy confusion before checking the screen.  
Frank was calling him. He glanced up at the clock. It was close to midnight.  
He quickly accepted the call and brought the phone to his ear.  
“Hello?” He croaked.  
“Gerard.” Frank breathed. “I was just calling to say um… _fuck you._ ”  
 _“What?”_ Gerard asked, not sure if he was hearing right.  
“ **Why** did you have to pick such a scary movie?” Frank asked.  
“Huh?” Gerard huffed, brain still fuzzy with sleep.  
“That fucking movie.” Frank hissed. “This is all your fault.”  
A smile spread across his lips as he realized Frank wasn't annoyed, he was _scared._  
“I only picked it because you said you like ghost stories.” Gerard pointed out.  
“I do like ghost stories!” Frank argued, “That wasn’t a fucking _ghost story._ That was… like, something out of my nightmares. I don’t know!”  
“I’m… sorry?” Gerard said softly, trying not to laugh.  
“I’m like, too afraid to sleep and I have work in the morning.” Frank whimpered. “This is all your fault!”  
“How can I fix it?” Gerard asked.  
“Fucking… talk to me. Until I fall asleep.” Frank said. “That’s your punishment.”  
“Okay… well…” Gerard faltered, “You know ghosts aren’t real so... just try to relax.” Gerard said, curling up into a more comfortable position on the couch.  
“You mean you don’t believe in ghosts?” Frank asked.  
“No? Do you?” Gerard asked.  
“Of course I do!” Frank said, voice rising in pitch.  
“Huh.” Gerard huffed. He sucked at helping people when they were upset. He had always sucked at it. He was at a total loss for comforting words.  
“I can’t believe you don’t believe in ghosts.” Frank said.  
“I mean. I don’t believe in ghosts in the traditional sense… I don’t believe souls get trapped in our plane of existence when they are vacating the body. There’s actually a lot of simple scientific explanations for what most people describe as paranormal experiences.”  
“That’s... oddly comforting.” Frank said softly.  
“It just seems unlikely that a curse like that would exist. Even a ghost in the way you conceptualize is nothing more than energy in it’s rawest form. Such energy could never hurt you, Frank. Besides… even if it could, what makes you think a malicious ghost would want you specifically?”  
“Stop… making sense.” Frank mumbled.  
“See? You’ll be okay.” Gerard said encouragingly.  
“Yeah. Not even a ghost could want me.” Frank agreed.  
“That’s not what I-”  
“I’m joking… sort of.” Frank interrupted. “I didn’t realize you get so nerdy about paranormal shit... Do you have explanations for other creatures?”  
“Like… what else do you believe in?” Gerard asked timidly.  
“Aliens, maybe? I’m starting to suspect _healing powers_... And vampires kind of make sense from an evolutionary standpoint. But I think I just really want them to exist. Same with werewolves… I love dogs so-”  
“Yeah. Mikey had mentioned you like dogs.” Gerard spoke over Frank, ungracefully attempting to change the subject.  
“I’d get one if my building allowed it.” Frank said sadly. “They have a no-dog policy. The city’s no place for a dog anyways. I probably wouldn’t be so scared if I had a dog right now though. Wouldn’t have had to call you.” He let out a short breathy laugh.  
“You’re still scared?” Gerard asked. “Fuck. I’m sorry.”  
“Is it lame if I say ‘yes’?” Frank asked softly. “I mean… even with everything you said. It makes sense but it doesn’t make the shadows look any less shifty and menacing. And I’m not even tired now and…” He trailed off.  
“Look um, don’t take this the wrong way…” Gerard started, swallowing hard. “But do you want me to like... come over?”  
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” Frank said, almost inaudibly.  
“Yeah… um. Sorry. It was stupid to suggest.” Gerard said.  
“Well… I should probably go.” Frank said.  
Gerard tried to hold back a sigh but it came out anyways.  
  
Frank kept acting like he wanted Gerard… If Frank could’ve _seen_ the way he’d looked at Gerard as he was leaning up against the turntable listening to Gerard’s Smiths record. Frank _wanted_ Gerard. There was no doubt in Gerard’s mind.  
But Frank had changed his mind at the last second.  
He hadn’t been so hesitant that night before the moon. Gerard knew he’d fucked up by not calling Frank. He’d fucked up by not remembering Frank. But Frank had called _him_. Wasn’t asking to see Frank, even though it was the middle of the night, the natural progression of things?  
  
“Yeah. I… I hope you get some sleep.” Gerard said, suddenly noticing he had been hugging one of the throw pillows. He didn’t remember grabbing it.  
There was silence from Frank’s end of the call. Gerard pulled the phone from his ear but the call hadn’t dropped yet. He brought it back to his ear. He thought he could hear Frank’s breath.  
Frank didn’t want to be the one to hang up first.  
Gerard didn’t want to hang up either.  
“Frank?”  
“Yeah?” Frank sighed.  
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come over?” Gerard asked. His heart fluttered. It wasn’t like him to beg. “I know I can’t do much about evil curses but I…” Gerard faltered.  
He had no idea what he could offer Frank because he didn’t know what Frank wanted.  
“Mmmmmm. Okay.” Frank hummed. “Come over.”  
“Wait… really?” Gerard asked.  
“Yeah. Don’t make me change my mind.” Frank scoffed.  
“Okay. I… I’ll leave right now. You want me to pick anything up on the way?” Gerard asked.  
“Mmmmm… no.” Frank said thoughtfully.  
“Okay. Text me your address?” Gerard said.  
“Sure.” Frank sighed.  
“I’ll see you soon.” Gerard said.  
“You’re actually coming over _right now?_ ” Frank asked incredulously.  
“Yeah?” Gerard replied.  
“Looks like I’ve been swallowed by a curse after all.” Frank sighed. “I’ll text you. See ya.”  
Gerard opened his mouth to say more but Frank dropped the call.  
  
Gerard found it almost funny that Frank considered Gerard to be something of a curse.  
Frank clearly knew nothing of actual curses.


	9. Blood, Guts and Bathwater

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw:suicide mention

Frank paced back and forth in his tiny kitchen lost in thought.  
There was really only one reason a guy like Gerard would want to come over in the middle of the night. Gerard had said he wasn’t just looking to hook up… but Frank wasn’t so sure.  
It was horribly confusing for Frank to want Gerard to want him and to be offended that Gerard might want him all in the same.  
He thought about picking up the old coffee mugs scattered on several of the dust-covered surfaces but decided Gerard didn’t deserve that kind of forethought. He would just have to accept Frank for exactly who and how he was.  
He’d tried to call Gerard to tell him he’d changed his mind and that he shouldn’t come over but the call went straight to voicemail. Gerard was already underground on a train headed towards Frank’s apartment.  
He managed to brush his teeth, chug another beer, stare at his hopeless mop of messy hair in the mirror and browse his pitiful selection of non-horror movie titles before the intercom buzzed.  
He hesitated a moment before pushing the talk button.  
“Hello?” He asked softly, leaning against the wall.  
“Frankie?” Gerard asked hesitantly. “It’s me, ahm, Ger-”  
Frank heard the familiar buzz of the door unlocking as he pushed the ‘door’ button underneath the speaker, not waiting for Gerard to finish his sentence.  
“Don’t call me ‘Frankie’.” He said bitterly to his empty apartment.  
His heart began to flutter as he waited by the door for Gerard to climb the stairs to his floor.  
He heard the rhythm of Gerard’s boots against the tiles, echoing through the silent hallway. A distortion of the dark figure Frank both longed for and hated slipped into view through the peephole. Frank pulled the door open as Gerard lifted his hand to knock.  
“Hi.” Frank offered softly.  
“Hey.” Gerard echoed, his lips twitching at a hint of a smile. Melted snow clung to his dark hair and coat. He regarded Frank with a hesitant look, trying to gauge Frank’s mood. Frank took a step backward.  
“Um, please come in.” He mumbled.  
Gerard followed him into the apartment. They awkwardly leaned away from one another as Frank stepped back towards the door to turn the lock.  
“Can I get you anything to drink?” Frank asked, searching Gerard’s face for the mysterious vanishing cut. Gerard’s face was pale and damp with flecks of melted snow, but there was definitely no scab. There was no indication of any sort of injury, in fact.  
“No, I’m alright. Thank you.” Gerard replied, sliding out of his coat and kicking off his shoes. He took a step towards what used to be Frank’s livingroom, where they had sat and talked the last time Gerard had been over all that time ago. “Oh-”  
The room was dark and empty; still in a state of disrepair. The ladders and plastic sheeting still sat in a neat pile in the corner from the painters who had had to leave them behind at the end of the day the last time they had been around to work on the damage. Gerard blinked, not expecting the cold, paint-fumey darkness in place of the sofa and and shelf after shelf of the truly glorious record collection that used to reside there.  
“What happened?” Gerard asked, staring at the empty space. “I mean, Mikey said your apartment had flooded but-” He took another step towards the empty room. Frank reached out and grabbed Gerard’s arm to prevent him from going any further.  
The sudden contact had Gerard turning towards Frank with a curious look. Frank retracted his hand, folding his arms across his chest.  
“It was my um… my neighbor I guess?” Frank said. “Here um… follow me. I don’t like talking about it in here...”  
Frank wandered in the opposite direction towards his kitchen, turning on the burner under the kettle and fixing himself a mug with a tea bag so that he had something to do with his hands. Gerard leaned against the doorframe, watching Frank move around.  
‘He, um, well… it’s kind of gruesome. You’re not squeamish are you?” Frank asked.  
“You know something of my taste movies.” Gerard shrugged. “As long as it has nothing to do with needles…”  
“You’re afraid of needles?” Frank asked, a small, nervous laugh escaping his lips. He could feel himself shaking under the gaze of the supernatural healer. The guy was unbelievably hot and it made Frank nervous. He hoped Gerard didn’t notice. “Guess that would explain the lack of tattoos.”  
His heart leapt as he realized he’d more or less brought up that he’d seen Gerard naked. _Completely_ naked.  
“It probably seems silly to someone with as many as you.” Gerard said, completely unphased.  
“No. Not at all.” Frank said. “Everyone’s afraid of something that’s a little irrational.”  
“Well what are you afraid of?” Gerard asked, taking a step towards Frank. “Besides ghosts, obviously…”  
“Lots of stuff. Like, dead bodies dropping through my ceiling. Which is exactly what happened.” Frank said, laughing in spite of himself.  
“...What?” Gerard breathed, fighting back an inappropriate smile.  
“Yeah so… oh man it’s so weird. Here, sit down.” Frank said, dropping into one of the chairs beside the small table in the corner. Gerard crossed the room and sat in the other chair, folding his coat over the back.  
“So my upstairs neighbor actually um… _killed himself._ ” Frank started, taking a deep breath, “Like, super cartoony toaster-in-the-bathtub deal…”  
Frank glanced up at Gerard. He was gazing back at Frank, listening intently.  
“He left the water running which flooded his whole bathroom.” Frank continued. “And like, this is a pretty old building and I guess there was an old beam in the ceiling or something. So I was just like, in my kitchen minding my own fucking business, cooking a fucking stir fry or whatever when I hear this loud crash in my livingroom. Scared the shit out of me.”  
Frank smiled as he watched Gerard make the connection in his head.  
“The tub like, fell through the ceiling and cracked in half. Blood and guts and bathwater _everywhere_.” Frank said, stretching his arms out to emphasize the sight he could still see so clearly in his head. “Water was streaming down through the hole in the ceiling. Ruined all my stuff.”  
“Frank that’s… I had no idea.” Gerard gasped. “Mikey didn’t-”  
“I didn’t tell Mikey. Haven’t really told anyone.” Frank interrupted. “Out of like, respect for the dead and shit.”  
“Holy shit.” Gerard said. “You’re not making this up.”  
“Wish I was.” Frank mumbled, getting up to turn off the tea kettle as it started to whistle. “You know how rare some of my records were. I mean, if you remember...”  
“I would’ve fucking moved if that happened to me...” Gerard mused.  
“Yeah well… the chances of it happening again are pretty slim so like, statistically this seems like a pretty safe place.” Frank said, getting down a second mug and tea bag for Gerard and pouring two cups of hot water, “But my lease is up in like, 6 months… I’ll probably move when it’s up. This place is like, haunted _as fuck_ now.”  
“I’d tell you to get a cat but…” Gerard said, giving Frank a sympathetic frown.  
Frank carried the two cups of tea back to the table and dropped back into his chair.  
“Jesus… Frank are you… are you like, okay?” Gerard asked, forehead wrinkling in concern.  
“I’m fine.” Frank nodded, “Can’t really say I’ve had worse happen to me though, I guess.”  
“Yeah… wow.” Gerard agreed, wrapping his hands around the mug. “Fuck, dude.”  
“The cop I had to fill out a report with said it was lucky I ran and hid instead of checking to see if the guy was okay.” Frank said, bobbing his tea bag in the steaming water, “It took them awhile to get to the body and because there was still electricity running through everything. There was water everywhere... I could’ve like... **died.** ”  
A heavy silence hung over the two men. Gerard had told Frank he wasn’t good at serious conversations so it made sense that Gerard got quiet.  
“It’ll be awhile before this place feels like home again but it’ll happen eventually…” Frank mused. “Anyways, weren’t you here to cheer me up or something?”  
He looked up at Gerard and smirked. Gerard’s eyes lit up with curiosity.  
“If I had known about your neighbor I wouldn’t have let you-”  
“We can just… watch something not scary, yeah?” Frank said, trying to change the subject. If he thought about his dead neighbor too much he’d never be able to be alone his apartment again. He’d heard the guy’s footsteps most days back when he was alive. Frank couldn’t help but wonder if there was something he could’ve done for the guy. He couldn’t help but wonder if his neighbors in other apartments were suicidal or living in pain.  
Frank gingerly picked up his steaming mug and carried it towards his bed room. His TV was still on, set to a local news channel. His room seemed messier now that Gerard was in it. A few boxes of his belongings that hadn’t been too water-damaged were tossed into boxes, stacked next to the TV. The box on top, containing his DVDs was open.  
He eyed Gerard as he glanced around the room, taking in the surroundings. He wanted to ask Gerard if he remembered what Frank’s room looked like. It was a stupid question. The room had been dark and they had been busy racing to get undressed the last time Gerard had been at Frank’s place. If Gerard didn’t remember who Frank was there was no way he’d remember Frank’s apartment.  
Frank slid a couple of the DVD cases around, making sure to avoid anything that might feature needles. He settled on the original Dawn of the Dead. He slid it into the DVD played and sat on the edge of his bed.  
“Sorry I uh… don’t exactly have a couch right now.” Frank sighed, sipping his tea.  
“This is fine.” Gerard said, perching on the edge of the bed beside Frank.  
Frank set his mug down and got up to turn the light off. Gerard watched his every move as he crossed the room again to sit beside Gerard. Gerard set his mug down on the floor.  
“I thought you said not scary.” Gerard asked confused.  
“This movie isn’t fucking scary.” Frank scoffed.  
“I don’t know dude. I’ve always been a little freaked out by the idea of reanimated corpses, regardless of how realistic their makeup is.”  
Frank just chuckled.  
“Like just think about that for a second... Actual dead bodies getting up and walking around.” Gerard shuddered.  
“Well, fuck, you sure know how to cheer a guy right up.” Frank said sarcastically.  
“Fuck. I’m sorry. We’ve been over this.” Gerard said, shifting closer to Frank and wrapping an arm around him.  
Frank felt himself immediately tense up. The strange war between wanting Gerard to want him and getting mad at Gerard for wanting him fired up all over again. He wanted to push Gerard down on the bed as much as he wanted to rip Gerard’s arm off as punishment for him even dreaming of touching Frank.  
“I’m legitimately terrible at serious stuff.” Gerard reiterated with a deep sigh.  
Frank looked over at Gerard. The opening scenes of the movie played across the his pale face. Gerard’s head turned and he considered Frank with that same curious, hesitant look he’d worn when he’d stood at Frank’s front door. Frank couldn’t help himself, he reached up and touched Gerard’s cheek, where the cut had been a few hours before. He didn’t know how to ask Gerard about it.  
Gerard must have misunderstood Frank’s intentions because he ghosted his fingers along Frank’s jaw, tilting his head up to meet Gerard’s lips in a soft kiss. Frank didn’t fight it, even though some part of him told him he should.  
He cupped Gerard’s face in his hands and leaned into him, moving his lips against Gerard’s. It felt so fucking good to let go of the conflicting emotions inside of his head and just give in. He pulled on the front of Gerard’s shirt, as he leaned back on the bed, trying to pull Gerard on top of him. He slid his tongue along Gerard’s bottom lip, but Gerard just kept his pace, kissing him with slow, closed-mouth motions. Gerard slid into the space beside Frank on the bed, rather than on top of him. His hand tangled in Frank’s hair.  
There was no lust, no hunger behind the kiss and it confused the hell out of Frank. He wanted friction and biting and desperate, hurried movements but Gerard just kissed him slowly, sweetly, _**politely**_. Their legs hung off the edge of the bed, but aside from the strange position, it was nice in a weird sort of way.  
Gerard pulled his lips away from Frank’s entirely and pressed torturously slow chaste kisses along Frank’s cheek, trailing down along his neck and stopping at the collar of his shirt. He wrapped his arm around Frank’s middle and buried his face in the crook of Frank’s neck.  
Frank stared at the ceiling, half-hard and hopelessly confused. Gerard definitely wasn’t a normal human being. “This can’t be comfortable.” Gerard said softly, shifting up and tugging on Frank’s shirt to pull him up against the pillows. “Come here.”  
They fumbled into something of a spooning position. Gerard’s arm draped around Frank, his fingers lacing between Frank’s. Frank tried to redirect his focus back to the movie, since it seemed like Gerard wasn’t interested in sex suddenly.  
But Gerard hadn’t said he wasn’t interested and Frank wasn’t done testing the boundaries. He pressed his ass against Gerard’s lap, feeling the firmness of Gerard’s hard-on poking against him. Gerard scraped his teeth over Frank’s neck then, squeezing his hand tighter and inhaling sharply, but he made no movements to go any further.  
Frank was now completely hard and impossibly confused. He went limp in Gerard’s arms as Gerard continued to kiss his neck slowly and sweetly. Eventually Gerard stopped kissing him altogether and just cuddled up behind him, shifting so that he could hug Frank tighter.  
Frank felt like he was on fire. Okay, _very confused_ and on fire. He gave up focused on the movie instead. Gerard’s breathing was slow and even behind him on the pillow.  
When the ending credits began to roll he glanced at the clock, it was almost 3 in the morning. With a heavy heart and a growing list of unanswered questions, he lifted the remote to turn off the TV and rolled over into Gerard’s arms, resting his head against Gerard’s chest. Gerard, of course, was happily fast asleep. Frank couldn’t help but snort to himself.  
He began to drift off, still fully clothed and filled to brim with sexual frustration.  
At least the dark wasn’t so bad when we wasn’t alone.


	10. Self-Control

Frank’s alarm started going off too fucking early.  
He fumbled around frantically for the snooze button and rolled over. The was half a moment where he was confused by the presence of the warm body beside him before remembering Gerard had come over the night before. Still half asleep, Gerard shifted closer to Frank and pulled him into his arms. Frank yawned and allowed himself to melt into the sweet and inviting warmth of Gerard’s embrace.  
 _Just 5 more minutes_ , he told himself…  
It felt like it was literally only 20 seconds later that his alarm was going off again. He pulled away from Gerard enough to smack at his alarm clock again, feeling around for the snooze button.  
“Don’t you have to get up?” Gerard asked softly, pulling Frank back into his arms.  
“Yeah.” Frank croaked. “But I don’t want to...”  
Frank ghosted his fingers over Gerard’s back, realizing that Gerard had taken his shirt off at some point in the night. He pressed his lips against Gerard’s shoulder. It wasn’t a kiss, Frank wouldn’t call it that. It was just a press.  
“Then don’t.” Gerard yawned, hugging Frank tighter and nuzzling his face into Frank’s neck. “Can you call out?” Gerard asked. His voice was right against Frank’s ear and it made him painfully aware of how hard he was.  
Frank seriously considered Gerard’s suggestion for a moment. HIs sleep-thickened mind played over his work schedule. The idea that his coworker’s hot brother was in his bed asking him to play hooky wasn’t something he could easily say ‘no’ to. He could maybe convince Mikey to take notes on the staff meeting at 10, intentionally ignoring the ethics of asking his coworker to cover for him so that he could stay home and make out with said coworker’s older brother.  
“I really wish I could.” Frank sighed, peeling back the blankets and shuddering. “But I have a staff meeting at 10 and we were gonna cover… Yeah, I kinda have to go in today.”  
It was still pitch black outside. The orange glow of the streetlights casted long rectangles of faint light across the ceiling. Frank stared up at the shapes as his brain slowly booted up.  
“I need to, um… get in the shower,” Frank said, trying to come off nonchalant, “You could join me? I mean... if you want.”  
“Okay.” Gerard said, voice still groggy, tracing his fingers over Frank’s forearm. “Ahm… you go on ahead. I’ll be in in a few minutes.” He pulled the blankets over his shoulders and nuzzled into the pillows. Frank’s heart fluttered at how fucking cute Gerard was when he first woke up.  
Frank apprehensively slid out of his bed and slipped out into the hallway. He was shivering by the time he got to the bathroom. He stood close to the creaking radiator as he waited for the shower water to warm up. He quickly stripped out of his clothes and stepped under the warm water. He quickly washed his hair and slid soap over his skin, trying to get as much of his morning routine underway before Gerard came in and fucked it up. Or, fucked him up… Whatever. Same difference.  
By the time Frank managed to get completely clean Gerard still hadn’t come into the bathroom. He reached beyond the shower curtain and grabbed his toothbrush and toothpaste off the sink. Frank had been hoping they could make out in the shower. He wanted to give Gerard the best half-awake shower blow job he’d ever received. Not to mention Frank was still incredibly hard himself.  
Frank tried not to be too disappointed that Gerard hadn’t come. He thought that maybe the guy had just fallen back asleep. Frank would’ve probably done the same. He stood under the hot spray and wondered how weird it would be to jack off and brush his teeth at the same time. He spit out his toothpaste, put his toothbrush back in it’s place on the sink and shut the water off, willing his boner away.  
He wandered down the hall expecting to find Gerard passed out in his bed but Gerard wasn’t even in his room anymore. The light was on and Frank’s bed was made. For a moment Frank thought that Gerard had left again. His heart was just starting to sink when he heard a loud clang in the kitchen. Frank tugged a t-shirt and some boxers on and headed for the kitchen.  
“Uh, hey,” Frank sighed as he entered the room, “how come you didn’t-”  
It was hard to be mad at Gerard when he was shoving a mug of hot coffee in Frank’s hands. It wasn’t sleepy shower sex but it was still nice.  
“Oh... Thanks...” Frank said, taking a sip of the coffee. It had been brewed too strong and had just a little too much almond milk added. Frank thought it was perfect.  
He watched wordlessly as Gerard clumsily rifled through his kitchen cabinets. His hair was a terrifying, black mess, almost like something out of one of Frank’s nightmares. Frank tried his best not to let his gaze fall to the strip of pale skin as Gerard’s shirt rode up when he reached for something on a high shelf. At least he tried.  
“Looking for something?” Frank asked, snapping back up to Gerard’s nightmare hair.  
“I ahm… I wanted to make you breakfast but…” Gerard said, turning to look in Frank’s direction. His eyes focused on the wall behind Frank. “But I’m not sure what vegans eat for breakfast?”  
Frank couldn’t help but laugh. Gerard was too stupid and too cute to be real.  
“I’m sorry...” Gerard continued.  
“Don’t be. That’s… incredibly sweet of you. I usually get breakfast on my way to work anyways.” Frank explained. He set his coffee down and lifted himself up and back onto the counter.  
“Oh.” Gerard mumbled, fidgeting with his hands.  
“I’ll have to make you a killer vegan breakfast some other day when I have more time.” Frank said, swinging his legs back and forth.  
“I’d like that.” Gerard nodded. “...But what would be killer about it? Isn’t the whole point of veganism to _not_ kill anything?”  
“I didn’t mean literally.” Frank laughed.  
“Oh… duh.” Gerard said, running a hand through his hair in attempt to smooth down the untidy raven locks.  
An awkward silence fell over the two of them then. Frank couldn’t stop looking at Gerard. And Gerard refused to look at Frank at all. Frank couldn’t figure out why he was acting so strangely.  
“C’mere.” Frank said softly, beckoning Gerard to come closer.  
Gerard hesitantly took a few steps closer to Frank but it wasn’t close enough. Frank wanted him closer closer. He reached out and grabbed Gerard’s shirt collar, pulling him up against the counter between Frank’s legs.  
Their lips met in a sloppy almost-kiss… if Frank’s lips against Gerard’s chin could even be considered a kiss. Gerard came to Frank’s rescue by framing Frank’s face with his hands and pressing his lips gently against Frank’s. Gerard tasted bitter, like the strong coffee without the almond milk cutting it.  
The kiss was nice. Really, _it was._ But to Frank’s extreme frustration, Gerard still had some hangup about making out with Frank. Even as Frank pulled Gerard closer, sliding forward on the counter to move his hips against Gerard’s, Gerard returned his affections with the same polite kissing he had worldlessly insisted on the night before.  
Could Frank be mad that Gerard hadn’t made out with him in the shower when he’d been busy making Frank coffee instead? Could Frank be mad that Gerard wouldn’t make out with him when he could’ve been not kissing him at all? Frank hadn’t come up with answers to those questions, but he certainly was mad.  
“Gerard…” Frank sighed, pulling back a little, head thudding softly against the cupboard behind him, “Did I do something?”  
“What?” Gerard asked, his oblivious deer-in-the-headlights look laid on a little too thick.  
“Why don’t you wanna fuck me? What did I do?” Frank asked. He felt weird asking so bluntly, but he didn’t know how else to put it.  
“You didn’t do anything, Frank…” Gerard sighed, dropping his hands to his sides. “I-”  
“Bullshit.” Frank interrupted.  
“I just…” Gerard started, swallowing hard, “Frank... you don’t think I have any self control and-”  
“Why does it matter what I think?” Frank asked.  
“ _Because._ ” Gerard said. He tried to pull away but Frank grabbed the front of his shirt to keep him from getting very far.  
“Stop. You’re gonna stretch out my shirt.” Gerard laughed nervously.  
“Stop trying to get away from me.” Frank countered.  
“Fine.” Gerard said, wrapping his arms around Frank, “But seriously… I’m just trying to show you that I can control myself around you, regardless of how much I want you.”  
Gerard leaned in and dragged his teeth over Frank’s neck, sending a shock straight down to his dick.  
“Well fucking stop it, okay?” Frank gasped. “It’s torture.”  
“Torture.” Gerard agreed, planting an open-mouthed kiss against Frank’s neck. He slid a hand up Frank’s thigh slowly.  
“Is that why you didn’t come in the shower?” Frank asked softly, staring up at the ceiling as Gerard sucked on his neck.  
“Sort of.” Gerard mumbled between kisses. His fingers toyed with the waistband of Frank’s boxers, pulling them down to caress the skin on Frank’s hips.  
Frank wished for a moment he’d taken the time to put on pants. His boner was painfully obvious.  
“I just wanted to blow you.” Frank whispered as Gerard pulled him closer.  
“Why didn’t you say so?” Gerard asked, kissing Frank heatedly to prevent him from answering.  
Gerard’s hand ghosted over Frank’s dick through the fabric and Frank couldn’t stop the moan that came out.  
“Do we.. have time for this?” Gerard asked in between kisses.  
“I’ll just have to be late… fuck it.” Frank replied.  
Gerard moaned encouragingly as Frank slid his hips against Gerard’s. Frank could feel the press of Gerard’s boner through the rough denim of his jeans. He pulled Frank off the counter and practically shoved him in the direction of Frank’s bedroom. Frank couldn’t be mad.  
  
It was like Gerard was on some kind of mission to get Frank off as quickly as possible. He pulled Frank’s shirt up and over his back as he followed him down the hallway. He pushed Frank down on the bed, pulling his boxers off as he slid down Frank’s body and shoved Frank’s cock in his mouth.  
Frank was breathless with relief as Gerard sucked him off. Gerard was good at giving head. Frank wasn’t sure if it was the swirly thing he did with his tongue or the complete lack of gag reflex but Gerard’s mouth was a place Frank wanted to be more often.  
An embarrassingly short amount of time later Frank was groaning Gerard’s name over and over and trying hard not to just come in the back of Gerard’s throat. He was putting up a pretty good fight until Gerard started teasing his ass.  
“Gerard, I’m gonna…” Frank moaned.  
Gerard hummed around Frank’s dick, perhaps in approval. Frank didn’t fucking know. The vibration pushed Frank over the edge. His hips bucked hard up into Gerard’s mouth as he let out a string of curses. Gerard not only had no gag reflex to speak of, he also seemed to have no problem whatsoever with swallowing all of Frank’s load. In fact, he seemed like he liked it.  
Frank felt like a mushy pile of goo on top of the bed spread. Gerard crawled back up Frank’s body and curled up against Frank’s side.  
“You’re so cute when you cum.” Gerard whispered, nuzzling his face against Frank’s neck. Frank had never thought of coming as "cute" before. He thought it was an odd use of the word.  
The soft textures of Gerard’s jeans and t-shirt registered in Frank’s brain. Gerard hadn’t even bothered to undress himself. Before Frank could get too sleepy he rolled on top of Gerard and reached for the button on his jeans.  
“Frankie…” Gerard groaned, pulling Frank’s hand away. “If you leave now you might make it on time.”  
“How do you know what time I-”  
“You work with my brother, right?” Gerard pointed out, pulling Frank down for a kiss.  
“Hey!” Frank groaned, “Don’t talk about your brother when we just-”  
“All I’m saying is that I know you have to be in at 9, okay!?” Gerard laughed, pushing Frank off. “If you get dressed in the next 5 minutes I bet you could still make it on time.”  
“But…” Frank sighed, still at a loss for words in his post-fuck glow.  
“You can thank me later.” Gerard offered suggestively, pecking Frank on the cheek.  
“Okay.” Frank nodded.  
 _“So fucking cute.”_ Gerard muttered under his breath, pulling Frank in for another hug before getting up.  
Gerard pulled on his coat and drank the rest of Frank’s coffee while he watched Frank race around his apartment, getting everything together. Keys, wallet… It took awhile for him to remember where he’d left his phone but eventually he was also shrugging into a thick winter coat.  
Frank paused at the door, wanting to kiss Gerard goodbye then in case Gerard didn’t want to be seen kissing him in public. He grabbed Gerard by the front of his coat and pulled him in for a kiss. Gerard returned the kiss, wrapping his arms around Frank and hugging him close. They paused, staring into each others eyes for a moment before Gerard pointed out that Frank was going to be late.  
Frank didn’t fucking care but he left that, as well as some other things left unsaid. He’d had a good time with Gerard. He probably would’ve had a good time even if Gerard hadn’t given him a blowjob at the last minute. He still wondered about Gerard’s bizarre tendency to heal and why Gerard cared so much about what Frank thought of him.  
Gerard had said he wasn’t so good with serious conversations but when Frank thought about it, he realized he wasn’t so good with them either.  
  
It had snowed more overnight. People were out shoveling the snow off of the sidewalks, but many of the sections of sidewalk were still covered in snow. If Frank was late for work, it wouldn’t be hard to make up some excuse about the snow.  
About halfway down the block Gerard reached out and threaded his arm through Frank’s. Frank blushed at the display, turning his face across the street so that Gerard couldn’t see.  
They stood on the subway platform together in silence. Frank was still groggy from the cup of coffee he hadn’t drank. He usually listened to music on the way to work. He was startled when Gerard wrapped his arms around him and pressed a kiss to his forehead.  
“We should hang out again soon.” Gerard said. “I don’t have work for the next couple of days so…”  
“Yeah, um, I mean… I’m not doing anything later.” Frank said, burying his face in Gerard’s coat. His heart leapt as he realized that Gerard probably hadn’t meant that they should hang out later that same day.  
“Great.” Gerard said, to Frank’s surprise. “Come over after work? We can make vegan breakfast for dinner.”  
Frank smiled at the idea.  
Their train whizzed past, coming to a grinding halt along the platform.  
“Totally. It’ll be killer.” Frank said.  
“Killer vegan breakfast...” Gerard mused, following Frank onto the subway car.  
They held hands in silence for the short ride up to Frank’s stop.  
“This is me…” Frank said softly.  
“I know.” Gerard smiled. “See you tonight.”  
“Yeah, see you.” Frank said.  
Gerard leaned in and pecked Frank on the cheek.  
Frank stepped out of the train car blushing like crazy. The pink remained on his cheeks the entire time it took him to get to his office.  
He was just going to blame it on the cold and the snow, just like everything else.


	11. Fumbled

 

 

 

It came as no surprise that Frank had a hard time focusing on work from the moment he sat down at his desk. No one had noticed he’d gotten in 45 minutes late; Half the staff and most of the interns had called out on account of the snow.  
The only problem was, the same snow had led to car troubles for one of the bands Frank managed the travel logistics for. He sat at his desk with a mug of coffee in hand, reading over the bassist’s panicked email, finding that his mind kept drifting off to Gerard’s mouth and all the things he could do with it. From the e-mail, Frank gathered that the band was less worried about the state of their beloved van that had seen them through three quarters of a national tour and more interested in figuring out how the fuck they were going to make their next show date. He sat at his computer looking up hotel rates for the band and rental rates for a new van to get them through the last of their winter dates.  
He was on the phone with the van rental company when he found himself distracted again, not by his morning with Gerard but by his night with Gerard the previous week. He had to ask the man on the other end to repeat the address 3 times. Frank thought the guy slammed the phone on it’s receiver a little harder than was really necessary when dealing with a spacey customer but Frank couldn’t find it in himself to be pissed about it.  
He propped his head on his elbow and stared blankly at the panicked emails sitting in his inbox, mind quickly drifting back to Gerard.  
“Someone’s in a good mood.” A high voice said.  
Frank looked up from his monitor as his coworker, Jamia, came strolling into his office with Mikey trailing silently behind her. She dropped into one of the chairs on the other side of Frank’s desk and gave Frank a once-over. Mikey sat in the chair beside her, silently.  
“Seriously, what’s with the dopey grin?” Jamia asked. “You put booze in your coffee or something?”  
“No.” Frank sighed, shrugging noncommittally.  
“You got laid then, didn’t you?” Jamia snorted.  
Frank opened his mouth and closed it again but no sound came out. His eyes darted between Jamia and Mikey.  
“Who’s the lucky guy?” Jamia asked, waggling her eyebrows teasingly.  
Frank’s mouth started to form a G sound before he quickly blushed and stuttered out a quick, “No one.”  
Frank glanced over at Mikey again, who was now looking away. Frank blushed harder. It wasn’t like he had to keep his hangouts with Gerard a secret from Mikey, but Mikey probably didn’t want the details.  
“Did you guys just come in here poke at my love life or is there something important?” Frank asked, redirecting his attention back to Jamia, “I have a very panicked, very stranded, very _annoying_ band that needs to make their next tour date somehow.”  
“The boss needs us to divvy up the intern work since the interns are all out today.” Mikey explained.  
“But I think you should do all of it.” Jamia said, squinting her eyes at Frank.  
“Why me?” Frank whined.  
“Cause you’re in a better mood than I am.” Jamia shrugged, “It’s only fair.”  
“Last time I used the copier I broke it.” Mikey added. “I think it’s in everyone’s best interest that you handle the intern stuff.”  
“I hate you both.” Frank sighed, glancing forlornly at his computer.  
“It’s settled then.” Mikey said, getting out of his chair and slumping out of Frank’s office. Frank glared daggers at him as he went. The little shit was probably off to play computer games.  
“Jamia, how the fuck did you know I-” Frank started, once he was sure Mikey was out of earshot.  
“You never smile, dude.” Jamia interrupted.  
Frank paused to glare at her. He couldn’t decide if he resented her comment or not.  
“Huh.” Frank huffed eventually, taking a sip of his coffee.  
“You’re really not gonna tell me who it was?” Jamia asked, smiling innocently. Frank was used to her tactics by then. Unfortunately the wide puppy eyes she was making still had their charm on him. He sighed and made a motion for Jamia to close the door to his office. She quickly got up and closed it, making a grab for Frank’s coffee mug before sitting down again. Frank eyed the mug as it floated away from him in Jamia’s pale hands. He was still too contented to protest or make a reach to get it back.  
“So… I think I have a thing with Mikey’s brother.” Frank said softly, leaning forward so that his voice didn’t have to carry as far.  
“No shit.” Jamia smirked, mirroring Frank’s movement by leaning forward.  
“Yeah… I… We…” Frank stammered. “It’s complicated.”  
“So that blind date Mikey set you guys up on went well?” She asked.  
“No.” Frank laughed. “It couldn’t have gone worse actually.  
“But we worked things out.” Frank amended when Jamia gave him a confused look.  
“It’s about time you got a boyfriend,” Jamia mused, sipping Frank’s coffee and making a face, probably forgetting he liked a lot of sugar in his coffee, “He’s pretty hot, too.” She set the mug down on Frank’s desk.  
“He’s not my boyfriend.” Frank countered, sliding the mug back towards himself.  
“Friends with benefits, eh? Well, that can always evolve into something more.” Jamia said. Frank couldn’t figure out why she felt like she needed to sound so reassuring.  
“We’re not friends either.” Frank said, taking another sip of his coffee. “I don’t think he’s really much for relationships.”  
“You **_think?_** " Jamia repeated incredulously, "You mean you guys haven’t talked about it?”  
Frank was about to make some joke about how he would just have to add it to the list of things he and Gerard needed to talk about, right behind the possibility of mysterious healing powers when his phone rang. He spent a long time listening to the keyboardist of his stranded band talk about the logistics of knowing a guy who knew a guy with a van. Halfway through the conversation Jamia got bored and left, slipping quietly out of Frank’s office before he got any advice out of her. After speaking to the keyboardist for 30 minutes longer, Frank was swept into his workday, tending to all emergencies popping up in his inbox and the loathsome intern work. Before he knew it, it was 5:15.  
Frank left his office a few minutes later, mood souring as he realized that he still needed to buy ingredients for vegan breakfast and that the grocery store would be crowded with all the other business-people who had just gotten off work.  
  
It turned out Frank didn’t need to go to the grocery store at all. Frank had been in Gerard’s kitchen for all of 10 minutes when suddenly Gerard was kissing Frank’s neck and shoving his hand in Frank’s pants. After a few agonizingly unsatisfying moments of leaning against the kitchen counter and jacking each other off, they ended up in the shower so that Gerard could make up for the shower he’d skipped out on that morning. The shower didn’t last long. Gerard brought their heated kissing and grinding to a halt and pulled Frank from the shower so that he could fuck Frank on the bed.  
After sufficiently soaking the sheets with shower water, sweat, and cum, they curled up in the damp sheets, kissing and shivering until Gerard’s stomach growled. In his post-fuck glow Frank was too exhausted to cook anything so Gerard called and ordered takeout, promising Frank they could make vegan breakfast some other time.  
At the end of the evening, Gerard changed out the damp sheets for dry ones. The new sheets didn’t smell like Gerard as much and were cold against Frank’s bare skin, but he fell asleep easily as he pressed himself tightly against Gerard’s warm skin.  
Frank woke up in Gerard’s arms the next morning with a bad hairday and no time to go home and change into something else for work. Gerard let him borrow the smallest shirt he could find in his closet. It was still giant on Frank, but it wasn’t so noticeable under the black sweater Gerard handed him. Gerard made coffee as Frank brushed his teeth with a spare toothbrush and tried to manage his hair with tap water. He quickly gave up on his hair and gratefully sucked down the coffee Gerard had made.  
Frank was about to slip out the door when Gerard pulled him into his arms and kissed the hell out of him. For a moment, Frank just let Gerard kiss him. It was nice. Gerard had this amazing capacity to make Frank feel wanted. He didn’t understand it but he didn’t have time to think about it either. He finally backed away from Gerard and slipped out the door after a whispered goodbye and a few more kisses. As Frank quickly walked down the street, he realized he’d made no promises or commitments to see Gerard again. The thought was freeing but also… saddening. As he descended into the subway tunnel he remembered that Gerard was still the same person who couldn’t be bothered to remember Frank’s face before. He wanted to see Gerard again, but he didn't know why.   
Frank got to work 15 minutes late, slipping into the board meeting he was supposed to take notes for just as it was starting. He sat down towards the back, earning him a glare from his boss and a knowing smile from Jamia.  
  
Frank didn’t see or hear from Gerard (aside from a few brief text exchanges) until Friday night. The bar was incredibly busy, even for a Friday. He looked up from the drinks he was mixing and saw Gerard sitting at the end of the bar. After he slid the drinks to their respective owners he made his way over to Gerard, unable to hide the grin on his face.  
“Hey, ummmm,” Frank faltered, “What are you doing here?”  
“I’m actually waiting for someone...” Gerard grinned, absently pushing the straw around in his drink.  
Frank immediately felt a sinking feeling in his chest. Of course Gerard hadn’t showed up at the bar just to see Frank. He hoped the disappointment didn’t show in his face. He couldn’t believe Gerard was actually going to make Frank watch him go on a date with someone else.  
“Well, we’re slammed so I gotta get back to-” Frank started.  
“Are you free later?” Gerard asked, cutting Frank off.  
Frank wanted to grab the mostly empty drink that sat beside Gerard on the counter and slosh it onto Gerard’s stupid, perfect outfit. He couldn’t believe Gerard expected Frank to watch him go on a date and still wanted to hook up after.  
“I don’t know.” Frank sighed, “There might be this thing…” It was a fumbled excuse he was certain Gerard could see right through, but it was all Frank could muster.  
“What about after the thing?” Gerard pressed, raising his eyebrows.  
“Gerard, I... “ Frank shrugged, “Maybe. I don’t know. I gotta get back to work, okay?”  
Frank turned on his heels, allowing himself to frown now that his back was turned to Gerard. He made sure to avoid the corner of the bar Gerard was sitting at, letting the other bartender make his drinks. He didn’t care if Gerard knew he was doing it or not.  
At some point, Frank turned around and Gerard was no longer alone. He had been joined by Mikey. Frank felt both relieved and angered to see Gerard chatting away with his brother. He wanted to punch Gerard in the face almost as much as he wanted to go home with him later.  
Frank wasn’t sure why he’d gotten so upset. Gerard was technically free to go on dates with whomever. They weren’t lovers. They weren’t even friends. Frank had said so himself. Jamia’s nagging voice popped into his head, reminding him of why it was good to establish boundaries in relationships and blah blah blah.  
Now that Mikey was sitting next to Gerard, Frank wasn’t sure how he was supposed to tell Gerard that he was very free later.  
The problem quickly resolved itself. Mikey stayed for two drinks and left, waving goodbye to Frank as he headed for the door. Frank hadn’t even gotten a chance to properly say hello to Mikey because he had been so busy.  
The next time Frank looked over at Gerard, he was doodling on some napkins spread out in front of him. The bar crowd had died down a bit and Frank took a moment to look Gerard over. Gerard’s brow furrowed as his hand moved over the napkin. He bit his lip in concentration. Frank wondered if maybe he should tell Gerard he liked him. The idea of admitting it made Frank want to set things on fire and punch in windows. It only made matters worse that Gerard seemed like he didn’t know the first thing about relationships. He probably wasn’t even into Frank like that. But he kept coming back, which had to mean something. Didn’t it?  
Gerard glanced up from his napkin and looked surprised to find Frank staring back at him. Frank’s eyes darted away from Gerard’s. He felt a blush creeping over his cheeks. A small smile twitched at his lips. Before he could look at Gerard again to try and read his face, a customer caught Frank’s attention and he found himself busy pouring a round of shots for a group of grumpy-looking businessmen. Business picked up again after that. Frank didn’t get a chance to stare at Gerard again for awhile.  
Just as Frank was starting to really fiend for a cigarette his manager appeared at his side, handing Frank his portion of the tips from his shift and telling him he could leave a few minutes early.  
Frank shoved the cash in his back pocket and threw his apron in the bin. He grabbed his coat from the office in the back. He already had the coat on his shoulders and was feeling around for his cigarettes by the time he got to Gerard.  
Gerard had splayed several napkins out across the counter in some type of graphic, bloody scene. Frank couldn’t exactly tell what the fuck Gerard had drawn. It was dim in the bar and Gerard’s pen had ripped up the napkins around some of the lines, distorting the images. The torn effect made the whole thing creepier. Frank was about to reach out and carefully organize them into a neat pile to take home and examine further when Gerard beat him to it. Except instead of organizing the napkins, he balled them up into his fists and tossed them into the trash behind the bar.  
“That was cool. Why did you…” Frank trailed off, staring hopelessly at the trash bin.  
“Wasn’t my best work.” Gerard shrugged. “Wanna get out of here?”  
“You have no idea.” Frank sighed.  
Gerard slid off the barstool he’d been perched on all night and grabbed Frank’s hand, pulling him through the crowded bar and out into the cold, clear night. Gerard didn’t let go of Frank’s hand once they were outside. Frank tried to remain calm, but the small contact was making his heart flutter. He realized then that he was nervous. He inhaled the sharp cold air and pulled his hand away from Gerard’s to light a cigarette.  
The wind had picked up and Frank couldn’t get his lighter to stay lit long enough to cherry his smoke. Gerard stepped in front of him, huddling around the cigarette to keep the wind away. Frank finally got the lighter to work, welcomely inhaling the familiar toxins.  
Gerard plucked the cigarette from Frank’s lips and leaned forward. Frank’s protest died on his lips as Gerard closed the space between them and kissed him. It was a brief, polite kiss but it sent Frank’s heart racing. Gerard’s lips were much more familiar and welcome than any amount of cigarette smoke.  
They went back to Gerard’s place. Gerard put on some douchey art film. Frank was going to ask Gerard to put on something else when Gerard’s hands were suddenly digging into his shoulders.  
“You’re so tense, Frankie.” Gerard whispered as he pressed his thumbs into Frank’s neck.  
Frank leaned back into Gerard’s hands and tried not to moan at the gentle pain that resolved into a relaxed calm as Gerard worked at his aching muscles. Another minute and Frank was fucking melting in Gerard’s arms. It was nice to turn his brain off and wrap himself around Gerard.  
Eventually they ended up making out on the couch, which lead to an exchange of lazy handjobs. Gerard was good with his hands in more ways than one, Frank decided.  
They somehow fit together comfortably on Gerard’s couch, though it seemed impossible. Frank couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so comfortable and light. For the third time that week, Frank fell asleep in Gerard’s arms.  
  
The next morning Frank awoke in Gerard’s bed. He wasn’t sure how they’d gotten from the couch to the bed but it didn’t matter when Gerard was sliding down under the sheets and bringing Frank’s cock into his mouth. Frank didn’t understand Gerard’s seemingly insatiable appetite for sex but he couldn’t really complain either, as long as it meant lazy morning sex.  
They stayed in bed until it was early afternoon and they were both dying for caffeine. Since it was Saturday, they decided to go out for coffee instead of venturing into Gerard’s kitchen. They bundled themselves up in their winter coats and stepped into cold morning air.  
Gerard took Frank’s hand and lead them to a place a few blocks from his apartment. Frank’s fingers were numb by the time they got to the coffee spot. It was warm inside and the smell of coffee itself was almost enough to kickstart Frank’s brain.  
Once they had their coffee, they sat at a small table by the window. The scenario reminded Frank a little too much of their awful, failed blind date...  
“This place is cute.” Frank commented, feeling suddenly uncomfortable in their silence.  
“Yeah. I come here when I can’t think.” Gerard said, sipping delicately on his coffee.  
“I have a place for that, too.” Frank sighed. His coffee was still too hot to drink, but he breathed in the steam coming from the hole in the lid of his cup. Frank thought he should just tell Gerard how he felt. Even if Gerard didn’t return his feelings, it was better to be open about it. What was the worst that could happen? Gerard wouldn’t freak out and run away, even in the worst case scenario. He wasn’t like that. Frank didn’t think so.  
“I actually have to get going soon.” Gerard said, suddenly, snapping Frank out of his dreamy thoughts, “I have an appointment.”  
“An appointment?” Frank asked conversationally.  
“STD test.” Gerard offered nonchalantly. “They had an opening this afternoon and it’s hard to get appointments on Saturdays in this city as it is. You know how it goes.”  
Frank felt suddenly like all the air had been sucked out of the room.  
“STD test?” Frank repeated in a panicked whisper. “Why?”  
“Nothing to freak out about. It's just something I do routinely every couple of partners, you know?” Gerard said, reaching for Frank’s hand.  
Frank pulled his hand away, feeling sick suddenly. He hadn’t even thought about the fact that Gerard had fucked enough people to forget their faces and could have any number of STDs, curable or _otherwise_. He stared at his coffee cup, suddenly unable to look Gerard in the eye.  
“Hey. Frank.” Gerard said, enunciating his words slowly in a hushed tone, “Are you okay? We can talk about this somewhere more private if you-”  
“No.” Frank interrupted, “I just…” he faltered, swallowing hard.  
“You’re only person I’ve been with since my last test. Everything came back negative last time. It’s just routine.” Gerard said, obviously grasping at straws to try and calm Frank down. He reached for Frank’s hand again. Frank let him.  
“It’s fine.” Frank offered quickly, glancing around the shop to see if anyone had overheard them, “Sorry for freaking out. That was rude of me.”  
“It’s okay. I probably should’ve told you earlier... when we were alone.” Gerard offered. He was smiling at Frank reassuringly when Frank finally looked up at him.  
“It’s just…” Frank mused, “That’s very mature and responsible for a-”  
“Fuck and run?” Gerard said, finishing Frank’s sentence bitterly. It was the first time Frank had ever seen anything other than smooth contentment on Gerard’s face. Frank had never had his own words thrown back at him in a way that made him feel like he’d been punched in the stomach.  
“Responsible for a person your age.” Frank reiterated flatly. “I… avoid the doctor at all costs.”  
“My lifestyle demands it.” Gerard shrugged, smiling weakly at Frank.  
“Gerard.” Frank whispered. “I was mad when I said that. I didn’t mean-”  
“I’m pretty sure you meant it.” Gerard interrupted calmly. “But it’s okay. I deserved it. I really shouldn’t have left you that morning. It wasn’t right of me.”  
“Still… If I could take it back I would.” Frank said quietly, squeezing Gerard’s hand. He couldn’t tell if Gerard was mad at him or not. He didn’t pull his hand away but he still seemed tense and sort of melancholy.  
“Yeah.” Gerard sighed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to spring all that on you. I really do have to go soon though.”  
“Of course.” Frank said stiffly.  
Gerard smiled at him but it looked forced and too polite.  
Frank couldn’t tell Gerard he liked him now. It held a completely different meaning than it would have if he’d said it 5 minutes prior. The words were still tingling on the tip of his tongue. He had to will them back into his brain for use at a later time, if there ever would be one.  
They sipped their coffee and sat in awkward silence for a few moments longer.  
“Actually I think I’ll just… head out now.” Gerard said slowly, standing up and shouldering into his coat, “Never hurts to leave early you know.”  
“Yeah,” Frank nodded, “Never-”  
Frank was cut off by Gerard leaning down and pressing a kiss to his lips. The kiss was too short and unsatisfying. Frank hadn’t been expecting Gerard to kiss him. Before he could even kiss back Gerard was pulling away. Frank wanted to kiss Gerard a thousand more times until he didn’t seem so bummed out anymore.  
“Call me or… I’ll call you… or something?” Gerard said, tracing his fingers along Frank’s jaw.  
“I will.” Frank said softly.  
Gerard smiled at him, and it seemed more genuine this time. He grabbed his coffee and disappeared out into the cold.  
Frank banged his head against the table, just once, as punishment, after he was certain Gerard had walked far enough away from the shop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it took so long to update this omg. i went on a rlly amazing trip that involved lots of spelunking around cemeteries at night. i'm back at home base now. <3  
> let me know what you think?? things have been really... weird for me and i have no concept on the quality of this update.
> 
> -m


	12. Inauspicious Cravings

To put it simply, Gerard didn’t want to see Frank again until he got his tests back.  
For all he knew, everything would be coming back negative but he wanted to give Frank the peace of mind. He thought that maybe if Frank saw that Gerard was clean in spite of his history, Frank wouldn’t judge him so fucking harshly. He was still hurt by the prejudice he’d seen in Frank’s face on Saturday morning. But it only hurt, Gerard realized, because he cared what Frank thought. He tried not to read too much into what that might mean.  
He’d done a good job of avoiding Frank for most of the week, dodging his calls and replying with vague texts. Gerard wouldn’t say he missed Frank necessarily, but he was on Gerard’s mind a lot. The only problem was that Gerard wasn’t sure if it was _him_ that wanted to see Frank or if he was only thinking about Frank because the pull of the moon had started to get to him. There was no way for Gerard to know if it was him or **the wolf** that liked Frank.  
Sure, the pull was minor, but it wasn’t something he could ignore either. There was the occasional scratch at the back of his throat. Or a sudden desire to fuck the first moving thing he saw. Or a wave of nausea grabbing hold of him when he was least expecting it. Or an influx of cravings for Frank and bloody steak and a long sprint through a grassy field all at once.  
He had a lot of questions when it came to the Frank-related cravings, but he’d decided it was another thing he was better off not looking into.  
  
“Did something happen with you and Frank?” Mikey asked, when he’d stopped by Gerard’s place on Thursday night. He’d come over to make arrangements for the upcoming full moon, since the moon that followed was projected to be brighter than normal, and they’d ended up ordering pizza and going over some of Gerard’s new art. He ran his fingers over the dried ink on one of the pages on Gerard’s desk. Gerard would’ve killed him for touching the pages with his greasy fingers if he’d been looking.  
“No.” Gerard said sharply, eyes fixed on the page he was inking, “At least, I don’t _think_ so. Why do you ask?”  
“I just overheard him talking about you.” Mikey said.  
“Talking about me?” Gerard asked, setting down his pen and turning to look at his brother, “To who?”  
“He’s really close with this girl at work named Jamia. She’s in legal. You’ve met her before but I don’t know if you’d remember.” Mikey explained.  
“The name doesn’t ring a bell. What were they talking about?” Gerard pressed.  
“I kinda tune out when they talk about you.” Mikey shrugged. “Since there’s a lot of stuff I don’t wanna know.”  
“It get’s that **graphic?** ” Gerard squeaked.  
“Yeah.” Mikey said, scrunching up his nose, “Like I said, I tune out.”  
Gerard wanted to ask for details, but he felt weird asking for them from Mikey.  
“Anyways, he’s just seemed really down this week.” Mikey continued.  
“What do you mean?” Gerard asked,  
“Well, he was super spaced out at our meeting today and like, he had his office door closed all day yesterday and most of today.” Mikey explained. “And when we all went out for drinks last night he wouldn’t come out with us.”  
“Well, you know him better than I do.” Gerard shrugged, “Isn’t he normally pretty moody?”   
“Yeah, but… I don’t know. I was just wondering if maybe it had something to do with you.” Gerard wondered if maybe the way their conversation had ended on Saturday morning had been hard on Frank after all. It had been awkward but Frank had called him later that day. Gerard hadn’t picked up, but if Frank was mad he certainly wouldn’t have wasted any time calling.  
“I’ll take your silence to mean it has something to do with you.” Mikey sighed.  
“Maybe.” Gerard mused softly. “We sort of… it wasn’t even an argument, really. I told him I had to go for a routine STD test and he flipped out.”  
“Flipped out?” Mikey asked, raising an eyebrow.  
“Well he gave me that judgy look.” Gerard said, “You probably know the one.”  
“He always looks kinda judgy, his face just does that.” Mikey said defensively.  
“He did that thing with his eyebrows and I… left. I don’t know. I said goodbye and stuff. It was awkward but I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”  
“Gerard.” Mikey sighed wearily.  
“I’ve been kind of… avoiding him also.” Gerard said sheepishly. “Until I get my test back. I know it’ll all come back negative, but I just want to give him the peace of mind, you know?”  
“Peace of mind?” Mikey scoffed, “He’s probably freaking out right now. Gerard, he probably thinks you _gave him something_.”  
Gerard just stared at his brother. Mikey was right. Gerard hadn’t even thought of that possibility.  
“Look, Gerard, obviously you can handle things however you want. It’s your relationship, not mine. But Frank’s a good guy and he likes you. You should at least try not to mess this up.”  
“A good guy?” Gerard laughed. “Mikey, he thinks I’m a slut.”  
“You are kind of a slut.” Mikey pointed out.  
“Yeah, but when Frank says it he means it in a bad way.” Gerard argued dejectedly.  
“...He’s kind of old-fashioned, I’ll give you that.” Mikey agreed.  
Gerard wanted to say that there was nothing ‘old-fashioned’ about the way Frank let Gerard fuck him but he held his tongue.  
“Just… you should call him or something. He’s obviously unhappy.” Mikey said, “That’s all.”  
“I will.” Gerard promised.  
  
Only, Gerard didn’t call. He didn’t know what to say.  
“ _Hey, Mikey said you were moping around your office because you think I gave you an STD. Hope you’re okay._ ” didn’t sound good in his head and he knew it wouldn’t sound good coming out of his mouth.  
He fell into an uneasy sleep that night, which left him groggy and moody the next morning. The bad mood stayed with Gerard all through his shift at the art store. The strange cravings continued which only made him feel worse.  
He glanced up at the clock, sighing with relief when he realized he only had 30 minutes to go. Then he could go home and jack off and eat meat and do whatever else his body was telling him he needed to do.  
He decided to take a walk through the aisles to straighten anything that might be out of place. He was reorganizing swatches of paint samples when his ears pricked up at the mention of his name.  
“Gerard?” Frank’s voice repeated.  
Gerard turned his head in the direction of the voice and there Frank was. He looked cute. He was bundled up in too many winter layers and his hair clung to his forehead, weighed down with melted snow. Gerard was surprised to find he didn’t look mad. He just looked worried and hurt.  
None of Gerard’s previous flings had ever bothered to ask where he worked, let alone actually _visit_ his work. The thought was as strange as it was terrifying for Gerard. Frank was pushing himself into Gerard’s life in a way that no one had ever bothered to before. He didn’t understand it.  
“Frank.” Gerard said slowly as his brain crashed and rebooted. “What’re you- How did you know where I-”  
“Mikey gave me the address.” Frank explained.  
“Oh. Of course.” Gerard said, “Listen, I was gonna call-”  
“Shut up.” Frank snapped. “There’s something I wanna say first.”  
Gerard pursed his lips and nodded for Frank to continue, awkwardly shuffling the swatches in his hand.  
“Okay so, first of all, Gerard, I’m an asshole.” Frank started. It sounded rehearsed, which gave Gerard a funny feeling in his chest. “Second, I’m sorry for how I acted on Saturday…”  
The words Frank said after that were lost as Gerard noticed his manager standing half an aisle away out of the corner of his eye.  
“Epoxy?” Gerard interrupted loudly, “Here, let me show you. We have a few different products in aisle twelve, I think.”  
Frank looked both confused and hurt by the interruption but Gerard just grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the corner of the store furthest from his manager. He still had a few paint swatches in his free hand.  
“Sorry, my manager was right behind you.” Gerard said softly as they walked, “Please continue.”  
He stopped in the corner by the bottles of various epoxies and industrial primers, hoping his manager wouldn’t bother them if it looked like they were discussing the chemicals.  
“What the fuck is _epoxy?_ ” Frank asked, letting out a breathy laugh.  
“Well,” Gerard started, “I’ve mostly seen it used in-  
“No wait shut up. I’m just stalling…” Frank interrupted, taking a deep breath. “Look, no matter what comes back on your test, I’m here for you. We’ve been careful. And I only freaked out like that because Gerard- **_Gerard,_** I-”  
Gerard promptly cut Frank off by pressing a kiss to Frank’s lips. He wasn’t sure what Frank had been about to say, but he had an idea and he was positive he wasn’t ready to hear it. Frank kissed him back, wrapping his arms around Gerard’s neck, pulling them closer together.  
“Whatever you were about to say...” Gerard whispered, pulling back enough to look at Frank, “Save it, alright? You don’t have to apologize for anything.”  
“But Gerard-”  
Gerard shushed him, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of Frank’s mouth.  
“I’m off in about 20 minutes, you want to grab dinner with me?” Gerard asked, pulling away from Frank. The last thing he needed was his manager catching them in the middle of kissing while Gerard was still on the clock.  
“I was hoping you’d wanna come back to my place?” Frank said softly. “I could make us something. Killer vegan breakfast, maybe?”  
“Sure.” Gerard said, allowing himself a small grin.  
  
It was strange to go to grocery shopping with Frank. Gerard hadn’t done anything so domestic with anyone other than his mother. He followed Frank through the aisles, carrying their little shopping basket, occasionally glancing down and eyeing it’s contents. He recognized some of the things Frank had picked out, though there were a few things he’d never seen before. He couldn’t stop staring at Frank as he lead him around the store, reading the labels on packages to check if they were vegan friendly, or stopping to ask Gerard how he felt about certain foods.  
“What?” Frank asked, when he’d caught Gerard staring for the third or fourth time.  
“Nothing.” Gerard said, quickly darting his eyes away.  
“No. What?” Frank repeated. “Why do you keep looking at me like that?”  
“Like what?” Gerard asked, feeling himself blush.  
“Whatever.” Frank scoffed, rolling his eyes.  
He leaned in and kissed Gerard, in the middle of the frozen food aisle, where anyone could see. It wasn’t like they’d never kissed in public before, but this felt different somehow. Gerard would’ve kissed Frank back more passionately if he hadn’t been carrying the heavy basket.  
He just found it kind of amazing that Frank still wanted to kiss him, even though Frank knew the kind of person he was. If Frank wanted to kiss him in the middle of the store, knowing that Gerard was so promiscuous when he had obvious prejudices against promiscuity, he wondered if Frank would still want to kiss him if he knew about the lycanthropy.  
  
They were able to find seats on the subway, which Gerard found strange considering it was rush hour on a Friday. He absently reached for Frank’s hand and laced their fingers together. He didn’t realize he’d done it until Frank rested his head on Gerard’s shoulder.  
Gerard made eye contact with a guy sitting across from them. He wondered what the guy thought when he looked at Frank and Gerard, sitting together like that. If Gerard saw two people across from him sitting like he and Frank were, he’d assume they were a couple. The idea freaked him out, a lot, but before he could find some way to gracefully shrug Frank off the train pulled into the stop they wanted.  
  
The problem with Frank offering to cook was that it involved all this bending and reaching and whenever Frank’s shirt pulled up over his hips and exposed his tattoos, Gerard lost what little self control he had. Frank had managed to get a frying pan out and mince half an onion before they were making out against the counter. Gerard felt an incredible amount of relief wash over him the second Frank’s tongue was in his mouth. Kissing Frank almost satisfied the bizarre cravings he’d been suffering all day. Almost.  
Gerard helped Frank up onto the counter, which Frank rewarded by wrapping his legs around Gerard’s hips and sighing into his mouth. He was about to slide a hand down to work at the button on Frank’s jeans when he remembered why he’d been avoiding Frank in the first place.  
“Too many cooks in the kitchen.” Gerard said, trying to pull away.  
Frank grabbed the front of his shirt to try and reel him back in.  
“Seriously, do you want to stretch out _all_ of my shirts?” Gerard asked, trying to sound teasing.  
“ _Fuck your shirts... And fuck cooking._ ” Frank retaliated, voice sounding like pure sex. He cupped Gerard’s face in his hands and pressed their lips together.  
They kissed for another moment before Gerard was pulling away again.  
“Frank, stop.” Gerard pleaded. “I don’t want to do this until I get my test results back.”  
“When are you supposed to get them?” Frank asked, raising an eyebrow. Frank and his eyebrows were going to be the death of him, Gerard decided.  
“They said they’d call me by the end of the day. The office closes at 7.” Gerard sighed.  
“Oh, so like, an hour or so?” Frank said, glancing at a clock on the wall.  
Gerard nodded, trying to slowly inch away from Frank.  
Frank’s arms were still loosely locked around Gerard’s neck. He stroked his thumb gently over the skin above Gerard’s shirt collar. He didn’t know if Frank was trying to be comforting or not, but he found it comforting.  
Telling Frank ‘no’ was torture. Every inch of him wanted Frank, including inches of him that didn’t feel like they were a part of him. His physiology was dominated by some strange mutation with it’s own set of wants and needs.  
 _They both wanted Frank,_ Gerard realized then. Gerard wanted Frank as much as the wolf did. He wished he could tell Frank about it because he didn’t know what it meant or what to do about it. He reasoned could ask Mikey to help him research it...  
Gerard was pulled out of his thoughts, noticing they’d just been staring at each other silently.  
“Fucking tease.” Frank smirked, pushing Gerard back and sliding off the counter.  
He went back to chopping the onion, and puttering about the kitchen.  
Gerard lit a cigarette and collapsed into one of the chairs at the small table in the corner of the kitchen. He watched as Frank worked, wishing he had something to do with his hands because he couldn’t stop thinking about running them all over Frank’s pretty, tattooed skin.  
  
“You can put some music on, you know?” Frank said, tilting his head towards a small stereo and a stack of CDs that Gerard hadn’t noticed before.  
He got up and flipped through the cases. A lot of them were bands Gerard didn’t recognize. They all had the same, “FOR PROMOTIONAL USE ONLY” sticker on the front, so Gerard figured they must have been from Frank’s work. He finally picked one out and popped the disk into the stereo. He didn’t know what the band sounded like but he recognized the name.  
As soon as the music started playing Frank crossed the kitchen and picked up the case, inspecting the back.  
“You like these guys?” He asked, brow furrowing as he opened the case and flipped over the liner notes.  
“Never heard em before.” Gerard shrugged. “I actually don’t know any of these bands.”  
“Me neither. They kind of suck, huh?” Frank commented, smiling as he put the insert back in the case and returned to the stove. Whatever he was making smelled good.  
Suddenly Gerard’s phone was ringing. He slid it out of his pocket, recognizing the area code as matching the clinic’s.  
Gerard answered the call and stepped out of the kitchen.  
“Hello?” He asked into the receiver.  
“Gerard Way?” A polite female voice on the other side asked.  
“Yeah?”  
“This is just a courtesy call to let you know that all your lab work came back negative.” the voice said.  
“That’s great.” Gerard said, “Thank you.”  
“There was one thing on your chart though, so if you’ll hold for just a moment, I’ll get your doctor and she can fill you in.”  
“Alright.” Gerard said, feeling panic wash over him.  
The hold music felt like it went on forever. He leaned against the wall and glanced toward the entrance to Frank’s kitchen. He wondered if Frank was listening in. He wondered if they’d detected his lycanthropy. He wondered what the fuck he’d do if they had? He wondered if he’d caught something after all. He wondered what Frank would do if he had...  
“Hi, Gerard?” A woman’s voice said, after the hold music came to a halt.  
“Yes?” Gerard said softly.  
“This is Doctor Coleman. I just wanted to let you know, I had the phlebotomist take a little extra blood so we could check your blood levels.”  
“Oh.” Gerard breathed.  
“It looks like you’re a little low on vitamin D. It’s very common for New Yorkers, especially in the winter. I’d recommend you pick up a supplement and come back in to get your levels checked again once you’re taking it routinely.” the doctor said.  
“Of course.” Gerard said, feeling himself breathe easier, “I’ll be sure to do that.”  
“Thanks, Gerard, enjoy your weekend.” she said.  
“You too.” Gerard said, trying to sound as warm as possible.  
When Gerard hung up, he was so relieved he wanted to cry. He wasn’t even sure why he’d been so freaked out.  
He walked back into the kitchen. Frank had plated their food and was sitting at one of the chairs, smoking a cigarette and staring at the liner notes from one of the other CD cases Gerard had pulled from the stack.  
“Everything alright?” Frank asked, looking up from the insert.  
“Yeah. My test came back negative.” Gerard sighed.  
“That’s great.” Frank said, resting his cigarette in the ashtray and setting down the CD case. He lifted himself out of the chair and pulled Gerard in for a hug.  
“Yeah.” Gerard agreed, wrapping his arms around Frank’s middle.  
“I’m sorry I didn’t trust you.” Frank said softly. “I’m such a dick.”  
“I’ve given you plenty of reasons not to trust me.” Gerard said, nuzzling his face in Frank’s hair, which seemed to calm the wolf impulses. _There’s still lots of reasons why you shouldn’t_ , he didn’t add.  
“It was stupid though.” Frank said, “Really, Gerard. I hope you can forgive me.”  
Frank tilted his head up and pressed a kiss to Gerard’s lips. Gerard kissed back carefully.  
  
The worst part about all of it was that, as Gerard pulled Frank closer, he knew he didn’t deserve Frank’s apologies. He knew he didn’t belong in Frank’s apartment, with his sweet domestic bullshit and his bad CDs, and yet he was there anyway.  
Frank was a fool to trust him. Gerard was a monster, and not even just in the metaphorical sense, though he was sure that applied to.  
  
He knew he couldn’t keep it from Frank forever, but he could certainly _try._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updating after only 3 days? i'm proud of me, you guys. <3  
> TGIF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (tHaNk GoD iT's FrErArD!1!1!1)
> 
> -m


	13. The Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Werewolves cannot read minds in this story. Frank is just a fucking idiot.

“You should come over later.” Gerard grinned, pressing his lips to the corner of Frank’s mouth in a sloppy kiss. He had Frank pinned up against the wall by the front door.  
“I’m off at 5.” Frank said.  
“I know.” Gerard breathed, “That’s why they call it a nine to five.”  
Frank almost forgot to lock his apartment because he was so busy kissing his un-lover. They kissed for a few more moments outside of Frank’s apartment building before parting ways. Frank headed for the subway. Gerard went the other direction, offering some vague explanation involving errands and art supplies.  
  
Frank thought about Gerard the entire subway-ride to work. It was hard to not think about Gerard. Not when Gerard’s lips had been the last thing he felt before falling asleep and the first thing he’d felt when he’d rolled over after hitting the snooze button.  
Over the last couple of days, he’d been pep-talking himself. He was trying to work up the courage to point out to Gerard that they were perhaps lovers after all. Friends, maybe. Friends with benefits, if Frank was in a good mood.  
Frank didn’t mind waking up next to Gerard. He didn’t mind that he was always exhausted all through the day after Gerard spent the night. He didn’t mind that he spent less time playing guitar, drinking alone, and avoiding his creepy haunted livingroom. He didn’t mind cooking twice as much, or doing twice as many dishes. He didn’t mind sharing the shower in the mornings.  
If he didn’t mind those things, he could only wonder what else he wouldn’t mind.  
And if Frank was honest with himself, which was a rare occurrence, he always came to the conclusion that he wouldn’t mind if what he had with Gerard became a regular thing.  
But it was _just sex._  
Or at least, that’s what Frank told himself.  
‘Just Sex’ was about as much as Gerard was emotionally capable of. Probably. It wasn’t like Frank had asked. But he hadn’t asked because it wasn’t the kind of thing you asked someone you saw for ‘just sex’. He tried to remind himself of this as much as possible and he’d been doing a pretty fucking good job of it until Jamia slipped into his office at lunch. She dropped into one of the chairs across from his desk, not even bothering to ask if Frank was busy or not.  
“So you’re coming out with us tonight, right?” She asked, pulling a rubber band out of her pocket and shooting it at Frank’s monitor.  
He looked up from the spreadsheet he’d been working on all morning to glare at her. She shot back a satisfied smirk, knowing she’d successfully grabbed Frank’s attention.  
“Can’t.” Frank mumbled.  
“Why the fuck not?” She scoffed.  
“I’ve got plans.” Frank offered.  
“Yeah? Watching paint dry again?” she teased.  
“Hey Frank, did you take anything off the fax machine?” Mikey asked, poking his head in the doorway.  
“Nope.” Frank sighed.  
“Mikey, tell Frank he has to come out with us tonight.” Jamia pleaded.  
“I can’t.” Frank repeated, blushing, “I’m meeting Gerard.”  
“Gerard can come out for a drink too.” Jamia whined. “I mean, if you’re going to keep seeing him, you might as well bring him around.”  
“I don’t know if Gerard would wanna come out. He’s….” Frank faltered, locking eyes with Mikey as if the younger Way knew the words he was looking for, “Gerard’s… _different._ ”  
There was a twitch on Mikey’s face. It was the smallest possible breach in his typical stoic, emotionless demeanor, but it was unmistakable. Frank almost wondered if he’d just imagined it in his beyond-exhausted state.  
“Well then, you have to come out on Saturday.” Jamia insisted. “And you have to stop seeing Gerard if it means you’re not gonna hang out with us after work anymore. I don’t like this serious, boyfriended version of you.”  
“Gerard can’t come out on Saturday.” Mikey said, before Frank could point out that Gerard wasn’t his fucking boyfriend.  
“Why not!?” Jamia yelled, “You guys are killing me here.”  
“I don’t know.” Frank said honestly, raising an eyebrow as he looked at Mikey.  
“We’re going out… um, to the woods.” Mikey offered.  
“It’s the dead of winter.” Jamia scoffed, “What the fuck could you possibly be doing in the woods that’s more fun than getting wasted with me and Frankie.”  
“We just sort of… have to.” Mikey shrugged, “Anyways, I’m waiting on a fax from Epitaph and I need to see if someone accidentally grabbed it.”  
And just like that, Mikey disappeared.  
Which meant, Frank concluded, that he was onto something after all. And Mikey was in on it.  
Frank hadn’t forgotten about Gerard’s mysterious healing capabilities. There’d been no further evidence that Gerard was some kind of super-human mutant. He had been looking for other signs that Gerard was weird, but nothing had come up. He’d considered cutting Gerard just to see what would happen, but he wasn’t sure that cutting someone who may or may not have healing powers was such a good idea. What if he couldn’t heal on demand? What if he had other powers that he could hurt Frank with.  
If he worked up the courage to tell Gerard that he’d made a mistake and that he wanted to be friends after all, then maybe he’d ask about the healing stuff.  
Friends could ask each other those kinds of things, right?  
  
Frank was painfully reminded of the fact that what he had with Gerard was ‘just sex’ after all as soon as he got to Gerard’s apartment that evening. The door had been closed and locked behind him for about 15 seconds before they were on Gerard’s couch, kissing each other desperately.  
Gerard pushed Frank’s shirt up as he leaned back against the couch cushions. Frank stared up at the ceiling trying to decide if he felt used or not as Gerard trailed kisses down his chest.  
“How was work?” Gerard asked softly as he mouthed at Frank’s hip bones.  
Frank wasn’t sure if he’d heard Gerard right.  
“Sucked.” Frank offered, lifting his head up to look down at Gerard.  
Gerard stopped kissing his skin all over and rested his head on Frank’s belly, gazing up at him sympathetically.  
“I’m sorry.” Gerard said, “Do you wanna talk about it?”  
Frank wasn’t sure what it was he saw in Gerard’s eyes but he immediately decided he didn’t feel used at all.  
“No um… it was just boring, you know?” Frank said, swallowing hard.  
Gerard hummed an acknowledgement, picking up his trail of kisses where he’d left off.  
Frank was bewildered by Gerard’s ability to say the right things, just when Frank needed to hear them. There was a terrifying moment where Frank wondered if Gerard could flat-out read his mind. Though, if Gerard could read his mind he would be able to tell that Frank had figured it out, which he didn’t seem to be aware of at all. Frank quickly worked himself into a confusing circle of thought on whether or not Gerard could read his mind. The circle was brought to a grinding halt as Gerard palmed at his half-hard dick through his jeans. His breath caught in his throat at the beautiful emergency brake of a sensation. His head fell back against the couch cushions.  
“You’re so fucking perfect.” Gerard whispered, gently scraping his teeth over the skin covering Frank’s hip bone. He started to work at the button on Frank’s jeans.  
“Do you want me to put some music on?” Gerard asked, sliding off of Frank and making a move for the turntable before Frank could even answer.  
The truth was Frank didn’t want Gerard to put music on because he liked hearing all the sweet things Gerard would whisper against his skin whenever they fucked. Music could be nice too though, he supposed. He laid there with his eyes closed, listening as Gerard slid a record out of it’s sleeve and delicately placed it on the turntable. He didn’t recognize the music as it started to play, but he decided it was probably better that way. If Frank started associating music he liked with fucking Gerard, he’d have a real problem on his hands.  
Frank opened his eyes as Gerard slid back into the couch. He’d pulled off his shirt and had a condom in one hand, and a bottle of lube in the other. The putting-a-record-on suggestion, had obviously just been a suave cover-up so that Gerard could make a detour to grab the condom and lube he had stashed somewhere in the room.  
Gerard took his time undressing Frank. If ‘just sex’ was the point, he took his sweet time getting there. Their lips met in a heated kiss as Gerard crawled up Frank’s body. Frank sighed against Gerard’s lips as his warm skin slid against Frank’s.  
Gerard fumbled with the button on Frank’s pants. He helped Gerard slide them off as soon as he’d gotten the fly down. He was sure he’d died and gone to heaven as Gerard delicately mouthed at his neck and palmed at his dick through his boxers.  
Eventually Gerard made his way back down, trailing kisses all over Frank’s skin as he went. He tugged on the waistband of Frank’s boxers, until they were down around his knees. To Frank’s torture, he didn’t go straight for Frank’s dick and instead planted dozens of crazy-making kisses along the tops of his thighs.  
Frank wasn’t sure if he’d ever felt so fucking wanted in his life.  
 _“How can you make a guy feel so fucking wanted?”_ he thought to himself.  
Only.... he hadn’t just thought it, he realized, he’d _moaned it out loud._  
 _“What?”_ Gerard asked, brow furrowing. He looked up at Frank from where he’d been running delicate kisses on his inner thigh.  
“You’ll have to teach me how you make people so fucking wanted.” Frank offered, trying to backtrack. He couldn’t believe what he’d just admitted to.  
Gerard looked incredibly pained at his words.  
“You think I do this with everyone?” Gerard breathed.  
“No!” Frank shot back, “That’s not what I-”  
“It’s not an act...” He interrupted, pulling himself up until their faces were inches apart, “Frank, I... don’t want anyone the way I want you. I thought about this _all fucking day.”_  
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.” Frank whispered, feeling himself blush. If Gerard had been thinking about him as much as he’d been thinking about Gerard, then Frank suddenly felt like a fucking asshole.  
 _“How fucking dare you suggest I don’t want you.”_ Gerard scolded, crushing their lips together.  
It all fell apart from there. Frank tangled his hands in Gerard’s nightmarish mess of dark hair and kissed the hell out of him. What started as sex on the couch, devolved into sex on the floor. When Gerard started to get a rug-burn he steered them towards the bedroom because, as Gerard had put it, there was something so beautiful about the colors of Frank’s tattoos against the white sheets.  
Frank laid in Gerard’s arms for a long while after they’d finished. Gerard had smoked a cigarette in bed and it left the room pleasantly hazy. The haziness matched Frank’s mind and body. He nuzzled against Gerard and wondered lazily if Gerard was ever going to mention that he was going out of town again.  
“So, I’m going out of town for a few days.” Gerard said, pulling Frank closer. “The place I’m going has bad cell reception. You might have a hard time getting in contact with me. I just thought I’d warn you.”  
“Oh… thanks for telling me” Frank said softly, silently trying not to freak out about the fact that he was now completely convinced Gerard had just read his mind.  
“I just… I’d hate for you to think I ditched you again or something. I wouldn’t do that.” Gerard said.  
Frank wanted to point out that Gerard _would absolutely_ ditch him again - He’d done it before, after all - but if Gerard could read minds, he already knew what Frank thought about it.  
“Where are you going?” Frank asked instead.  
“My family’s cabin.” Gerard said, shifting on the pillow.  
“What’s it like?”  
“Well…” Gerard hummed, “It’s right by a nature preservation. It’s kind of isolated… off in the woods somewhere. It’s pretty.”  
“It’s upstate, right?” Frank asked conversationally.  
“Yeah. There’s a lot of good hiking around there. At least, that’s what Mikey tells me.” Gerard yawned.  
“How often do you guys go up there?” Frank wondered.  
“Once a month.” Gerard said, tracing his fingers over the tattoos on Frank’s forearm.  
“I’d like to go with you sometime.” Frank said. “It sounds nice.”  
“Does it?” Gerard laughed.  
Frank nodded.  
“Well… maybe next month or something?” Gerard said, pressing his lips to Frank’s and kissing him lazily for a long time as a way to change the subject. Frank saw right through it. He’d heard the tightness in Gerard’s voice. Whatever was going on with Gerard, he was certain it had something to do with the cabin. If the cabin was even a real place. There was always the possibility that Gerard had made the cabin up completely and that he actually beamed up to a spaceship once a month. Frank wasn’t sure if something like that would even surprise him.  
  
Aside from a trip to the bathroom and a short period of time where they ate toast in Gerard’s kitchen, they mostly stayed in Gerard’s bed, talking or kissing.  
Gerard fell asleep long before Frank did. Frank laid by his side in the quiet darkness, listening to his lover’s even breathing.  
Gerard usually slept peacefully all through the night, which Frank envied. Frank was the type to lay awake, tossing and turning, battling unwanted thoughts until the sun rose. It took Frank by surprise that someone who slept around so much didn’t have anxious demons to fight off in the dark silence. Gerard seemed so at peace with himself, which left Frank to wonder if he was the one with problems, not Gerard.  
Gerard rolled over in his sleep, wrapping an arm around Frank and burying his face in the crook of Frank’s neck. Frank smiled at the sweetness of the thoughtless intimacy.  
Gerard drew in a long, slow breath, breathing Frank in. It created that familiar, warm feeling in Frank’s chest. He felt wanted and... _safe..._  
Or, Safe until an unholy growl rumbled in Gerard’s chest, wiping the smile right off of Frank’s face. Frank tried not to gasp at the sound. He held his breath for a moment, wondering if perhaps he’d just dreamed the sound.  
Gerard’s muscles twitched as he inhaled again and there it was: a deep, low growl ripping from his throat.  
Frank had never heard such a sound come from a human being before. The sound was much more in line with something he might’ve heard the family dog make when he was a kid.  
All previous theorizing that Gerard was some kind of an alien quickly dissolved.  
  
Gerard had to be a demon of some kind. A magically-healing, mind-reading, growling demon. And Mikey was in on it.  
  
As Gerard continued to hold Frank, producing unholy growls every couple of breaths, Frank fought to decide if it changed how he felt.  
Sure, not telling Frank that he wasn’t human had to be some kind of extreme abuse of Frank’s trust, but the more he thought about, the more he could sympathize. If Frank was some kind of monster, he probably wouldn’t know how to tell anyone either. Gerard’s lack of a desire for maintaining some kind of permanent romantic relationship made sense to Frank when he saw it that way.  
He wondered if he should tell Gerard he knew. It wouldn’t be ‘just sex’ if Gerard knew he knew. If Gerard could read minds, he’d know that Frank knew as soon as he woke up.  
The idea of telling him scared Frank. He couldn’t fathom the extent of Gerard’s abilities. He didn’t know what Gerard was capable of. What if Gerard freaked out and hurt him?  
Frank just laid there completely motionless, wide awake, very confused, and very terrified until the alarm Gerard had set for him went off.  
Gerard got up when Frank did, shuffling towards the kitchen to make coffee in a half-awake daze as if it was any other morning they’d spent together. Frank searched through Gerard’s closet until he found a collared shirt that wasn’t too huge on him so that he didn’t show up for work in the same clothes as the day before, not that anyone but Jamia would notice.  
The smell of coffee wafted down the hall as Frank brushed his teeth. He stared at his tattooed fingers gripped around the spare toothbrush he kept in Gerard’s bathroom. The amount of denial Frank was in was laughable. Who the fuck kept a toothbrush in the bathroom of someone they saw for ‘just sex’?  
“That shirt looks cute on you.” Gerard said.  
Frank saw him slipping in the bathroom in the mirror’s reflection, all heavy-lidded and sleep-logged. He leaned against the door frame and sipped on a mug of coffee as he watched Frank smooth out his bedhead.  
“Thanks…” Frank said, turning to face Gerard.  
He searched Gerard’s face for any sign that this morning was in any way different than all the others. All Frank saw was a sleepy, contented grin. He moved ‘mind-reading’ over into the **maybe** category.  
“Please tell me there’s more coffee.” Frank groaned. He was going to need a lot of coffee if he was ever going to make it through the day.  
 _“Who do you think you’re talking to?”_ Gerard scoffed, striking terror into Frank’s heart as he moved ‘mind-reading’ back into the **YES** category.  
“Of course there’s more coffee. “ Gerard chuckled, drifting out of the bathroom.  
The rest of their time together that morning drifted along in a similar fashion. Frank was extremely on edge, constantly unsure if Gerard had found out that he was found out. He felt foolish and petty each and every time his adrenaline spiked. He was so tired from staying up all night thinking, so sore from fucking for so long the day before, and so worn out from trying to navigate his strange situation. When he looked in Gerard’s eyes, he saw nothing out of the ordinary, which made him feel like maybe he was just going crazy. He thought about just blurting it out and just asking the first question that came to his head, but every time he was about to say something, Gerard was there, kissing him and making him forget how he was going to phrase his questions.  
“So I’ll call you when I’m back in town.” Gerard said, catching Frank’s mouth in a kiss.  
“Alright.” Frank nodded.  
 _“Maybe you can tell me what the fuck you are when you get back.”_ Frank didn’t add.  
  
Of course, Jamia noticed his shirt right away. Or rather, she noticed that Frank’s shirt was the only thing that was different when she’d come into his office to remind him that he was going out with her the following evening. Frank flipped her off and promised to meet her at their usual bar at 7.  
Throughout the workday Frank wondered where Gerard was and what he was doing. Gerard had said he’d thought about Frank all day the day before and Frank couldn’t help but wonder if he had the same VIP status in his strange, inhuman friend’s brain that day as well.  
Now that Mikey’s absence had been so blatantly pointed out to him, he felt it. He was surprised he hadn’t noticed how often Mikey was out of the office before.  
Frank had considered the possibility that Mikey was... _whatever Gerard was,_ but in Frank’s mind it didn’t add up. Mikey was always dating someone. Unless he hid his nature from his partners like Gerard did, Mikey wasn’t the same kind of creature.  
Frank felt wrong calling his lover a creature. Gerard was very much a person, just like anyone else, even if he wasn't entirely human. He deserved to be treated and referred to as one, even if he was keeping secrets.  
Frank went home alone after work, telling himself he’d ask Mikey about Gerard when they were back in town. Mikey had set them up. Mikey had gotten Frank into this mess. It was only fair that Mikey should be the one to make sense of it.  
  
Frank met with Jamia Saturday night like he’d promised. She made him buy their first round as punishment for showing up 15 minutes late.  
It started off as a pretty normal night for them. They chugged their beers and talked shit on everyone at work for awhile. Eventually Jamia brought up Gerard. Several rounds and one too many conversations revolving around Gerard later and Frank was sufficiently smashed. He hadn’t meant to tell Jamia everything, but the beers he’d drank practically did the talking for him. He left out all speculations that Gerard was some kind of demonic monstrosity. He wasn’t going to tell anyone that part until he had more evidence. Jamia listened intently and politely, even though Frank was sure he was repeating some things over and over again and generally being a drunken asshole.  
At some point, Jamia suggested they go out for a smoke. She didn’t really smoke but she liked to bum cigarettes off of Frank whenever they went out together. Frank was always happy to oblige. They paid their tab and made their way outside.  
Frank passed her a cigarette and even went to the trouble of lighting it for her so that she didn’t burn her hair like she had the last time he had offered her a smoke.  
“Why don’t you just ask him out? Like, on a real date?” Jamia asked, puffing on her cigarette.  
“I just feel like… if he wanted to see me like that, he would’ve asked me already.” Frank sighed before lighting a smoke for himself.  
“He’s probably thinking the same thing, you know?” Jamia shrugged, “He knows he fucked things up with you. He probably thinks you don’t wanna date him.”  
“I guess I just... don’t think Gerard has the capacity for that kind of romance, you know?” Frank offered dejectedly.  
“You won’t know until you ask, Frankie.” She singsonged.  
And she was _right._ She was so fucking right. Frank knew that.  
He still tuned out her whole rant about the importance of communication in relationships, because he practically knew it by heart. He puffed his cigarette in silence, nodding like he was listening to her.  
“Frankie?” She called out at smoke point, kicking him in the shin when she realized he wasn’t listening.  
“Ow! Huh?” Frank huffed, looking up at her, “Sorry, what?”  
“You dick.” She laughed. “Were you listening to anything I just said?”  
“It’s all about communication.” he said, raising his voice much higher than Jamia’s to try and mimic her.  
“Oh my god. Fuck you. I don’t sound like that!” She giggled. “No. _No. Look at the fucking moon, Frankie._ ”  
Frank spun on his heels and looked skyward. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t noticed the way everything was bathed in pale moonlight. He’d been too lost in thought, he supposed.  
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Jamia asked, sliding her arm through Frank’s and resting her head on his shoulder.  
“You fucking sap.” He grumbled, exclusively to save face. He squeezed her arm fondly as they stared up at the sky together.  
Like with everything else, Jamia was right. The moon _was_ beautiful. It was huge and bright, hanging on the horizon just above the buildings.  
  
Gerard said he went out of town once a month, which meant the last time he was out of town _would’ve been…_  
Frank wasn’t sure what Gerard was, but in that moment he knew it had something to do with the moon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i stayed up all night writing most of this. i hope yr happy.


	14. Angel In Disguise

It took Frank a few moments of nauseous agony to figure out why he’d woken up on Jamia’s couch rather than in his own bed. The early morning sunlight streamed in through her living room windows which felt like hot daggers being shoved into the back of his skull through his eye sockets. His head was still swimming with alcohol. Nothing felt real. He tried to take a deep breath and his lungs protested painfully, cruelly reminding Frank that they were still unhappy about the amount of chain-smoking they’d endured the night before.  
It certainly wasn’t the first time he’d woken up on Jamia’s couch in such a state, but he fucking hoped it would be the last. As he laid there with the thin blanket thrown over his face to block out the sharp, bright light, he tried to work back through the night before to figure out what the fuck he had drank. They’d started with beers. He remembered those. He remembered talking about Gerard way too much. And then Jamia was freaking out over the moon. And then Frank was freaking out over _Gerard and the moon_. After that Frank had suggested shots of tequila.  
And now he was paying for it: _Everything hurt._  
Frank knew the nausea would hit harder the second he stood up. He tried to calculate if he could make it to the bathroom without puking on Jamia’s carpet on the way. The more he thought about it, the more nauseous he felt and he was soon ripping the blanket off and running for the bathroom. He thought of Gerard as he leaned over the cold toilet seat and dry-heaved. He wanted to be somewhere warm and dark and quiet until he didn’t feel so awful anymore and the warmest, darkest, quietest place he could think of was Gerard’s bed.  
After he’d rinsed his mouth out thoroughly with Jamia’s mouthwash, which had led to a second round of dry heaves, he crept back to the couch and curled up in a little ball under the blanket again. His throat burned from the combination of cigarette smoke and stomach acid, adding to the pain of breathing. He swore to himself he’d never drink so much again in his life. He was getting too old to wake up so miserably hungover. Then again, it wasn’t like he had gotten so drunk without reason… Frank’s mind was soon back to reeling over Gerard and the endless number of possible explanations for his strange affections.  
Frank ranked his explanations by plausibility. He decided it was most likely that Gerard was a satanist of some kind. It might’ve been the years in Catholic school, but Frank had always sort of bought satanism. It seemed natural that a satanist would go to the woods on a full moon to execute their rituals. He couldn’t figure out where Mikey factored into that theory. It also didn’t do much to explain the secrecy, magical healing, or the growling in the middle of the night. It was possible, Frank supposed, he had just dreamed about the growling.  
It seemed too fantastic to even suggest, but in Frank’s brain the second-most logical explanation was that Gerard was a werewolf. He catalogued what he knew of werewolves from his repertoire of horror films. There was _The Curse of the Werewolf, American Werewolf in London, Teen Wolf_ … It would explain the woods, the growling, the moon, Gerard’s generally wild appearance, the need for Mikey’s assistance. It explained almost **everything.** The inner-teenager in of Frank went _giddy_ at the idea he’d been fucking a werewolf for the past month and giddy was too much for him, given his miserable, hungover state.  
The idea of werewolves _existing_ was farfetched, he thought as he made another trip to the bathroom to dry heave. He felt stupid for even thinking it. It had to be satanism.  
  
Once he’d returned to the couch, he pulled out his phone to check for evidence of drunken phone usage, and was relieved when he didn’t find anything. Mikey’s name came up in his phone and he wished he could just call the guy and sort everything out. He was tired of living in this confused limbo. He snorted as Jamia’s speech about ‘communication in relationships’ started playing in his head. He was going to feel like such an asshole if Gerard got back into town and it immediately became evident the guy had been skiing all weekend or something.  
He wasn’t sure how long he laid there, milling over his miserable circular thoughts, but eventually he heard Jamia making the same run for the bathroom. He tried not to listen as she made the same purge he had, but he found himself smirking. He wasn’t alone in his hungover misery.  
Jamia floated into the room and dropped into a worn old chair across from the couch, considering Frank was a miserable, pleading look.  
“You too, huh?” Frank laughed hoarsely.  
“Frank,” She groaned, “Oh my God, _Frank._ **Just kill me.** ”  
Her face was pale and puffy, eyes sunken in and glassy. Frank hadn’t looked at himself in the mirror but he imagined he didn’t look too much better.  
“I don’t remember getting back here last night.” Frank admitted. “Sorry if I was an asshole.”  
“You weren’t worse than usual.” She shrugged, “I don’t really remember getting back here either. I think we took a cab.”  
They stared at each other in silence, wordlessly commiserating like old partners-in-crime. In some ways, that was exactly what they were. Eventually, she lifted herself out of the chair and curled up on the couch beside Frank, digging out the TV remote and flipping the TV on. They watched Saturday morning cartoons while Jamia rolled up a joint.  
Frank wasn’t a stoner. He hadn’t been one for years. And even in his formative stoner days, he’d never smoked as much as Jamia did. He thought it was funny that someone in the legal profession smoked so much. Not that Frank was one for good morals, he just had no idea how she could remember everything about laws and legal regulations when she was always high. It was sort of impressive, really.  
Frank always took a few puffs when Jamia offered, especially when they had spent a night drinking out like they had the night before. It took the edge off of things, removed the sting of nausea, and helped to mellow him out, which he certainly needed.  
He’d never been so grateful for Jamia’s friendship. He was going through the worst hangover in forever, but he was also stoned and warm and not alone. She was an angel in disguise as far as Frank was concerned.  
When they were both sufficiently keyed, Jamia made coffee. He was too nauseous to drink it but the smell and the feeling of the cup in his hands made him feel more human. Jamia didn’t drink hers either.  
Eventually they ordered pizza. Jamia ordered a pie with double pepperoni for herself and begrudgingly ordered a vegan pie for Frank. She spent the entire time they were waiting for the delivery guy trying to explain why pepperoni was the best hangover cure ever and how Frank was severely denying himself some serious pleasure in life. Frank knew. But pepperoni and all other animal products were a low priority on the list of things Frank had been denying himself.  
  
“So what’s wrong with Gerard?” Jamia asked, voice muffled around a mouth-full of pizza.  
They were sitting on the floor with their backs to the sofa. Pizza boxes, cheap scratchy napkins and packets of chilli flakes were littering the coffee table in front of them.  
“What’s… _wrong_ with him?” Frank asked, feeling a nervous blip in his heart rate.  
“Yeah. What’s wrong with him?” Jamia repeated, chewing softly, “Last night, you kept asking me what kind of things I would consider dealbreakers in a relationship. So I wanna know what the dealbreaker is.”  
“I think he might be a werewolf.” Frank said evenly, trying the words out loud. They came easier than he thought they would, but it could’ve been the pot, or the hangover, or Jamia. She was just easy to talk to.  
Jamia nearly choked on her pizza as she laughed at Frank.  
“No seriously,” She said, clearing her throat. “Is it just that he’s slept around a lot? Is he a drug addict? I can’t figure it out. What’s the hangup? What aren’t you telling me?”  
“Okay… so I think he might be a satanist.” Frank said, allowing himself to say try that theory out loud, “Would you still wanna date someone if they snuck off to the woods once a month to perform blood rituals under the moon?”  
“What the fuck is a blood ritual?” Jamia snorted, but she froze up and looked at Frank with wide eyes, “Did he tell you that’s where he goes? _Oh my god._ Is that where Mikey goes every month?”  
“I don’t know. This is all speculation.” Frank sighed.  
“Oh…” She said, looking disappointed. “Jerk. You got me all excited.”  
“Sorry.” Frank chuckled, grabbing another slice of pizza.  
“Do you know where Mikey goes every month?” She asked. “I’ve always wondered.”  
“No idea.” Frank shrugged, “Gerard goes with him. I don’t know what they do. All I know is that they go to the woods. It’s always around the full moon. Gerard said they go stargazing but... There’s this sense of urgency to it? I don’t know. It doesn’t add up.”  
“Have you asked about it?” Jamia asked, raising an eyebrow, “Or is this another thing you’re too afraid to ask about.”  
“I don’t know… Gerard said I could go with him next month but… I just feel like there’s something he’s intentionally leaving out.” Frank explained, “And I’m not just being paranoid. Don’t look at me like that. This is different, J.”  
“Secrecy this early in a relationship is definitely a bad sign,” Jamia continued, “Especially if you already have trust issues with him.”  
“I do **not** have trust issues.” Frank scoffed. “Fuck off!”  
“You absolutely do.” She said, “You always say he sleeps around like it’s a bad thing.”  
“ _I do not!_ ” Frank defended.  
“It’s okay if you’re not cool with that, Frank.” Jamia said soothingly. “Some people aren’t. You just need to be honest with yourself about that. Don’t pretend it’s okay with you if it isn’t.”  
Frank felt like Jamia had just slapped him.  
“Don’t get mad.” She scolded gently.  
“I’m not mad.” Frank said quickly, “Not at you, anyways...”  
He let out a deep sigh. There was no amount of weed in New York City to subdue the terrible feeling curling in Frank’s stomach. He’d been acting like Gerard was supposed to be the better person between them because Gerard had wronged him in the first place.  
Only Gerard hadn’t done anything wrong. He’d simply done what he’d always done. He hadn’t made Frank any promises their first night together all that time ago. And he couldn’t break promises if he didn’t make them.  
“I’m mad at myself... I’m such a fucking asshole.” Frank whispered, hanging his head.  
“No.” Jamia cooed, “Well… actually yes. But you’re a good asshole. I think you mean well but you’re just… _so fucking stupid._ ”  
Frank groaned pathetically in agreement.  
“Gerard hurt you. It’s okay to lose your cool a little.” Jamia offered, gently putting her hand on Frank’s shoulder. “But it’s gotta stop somewhere.You’re not gonna punish him for the rest of his life, are you?”  
When Frank lifted his head up, Jamia was smiling at him sympathetically.  
“No. I guess I probably shouldn’t.” Frank said weakly.  
“You should fix things with him when he comes back.” Jamia said, “Just… fucking _talk_ to him. And **be honest** about what you want from him.”  
“But what I want is so fucking selfish.” Frank groaned.  
“Selfishness can be romantic.” Jamia countered.  
Frank had to turn that idea over in his mind for a minute. He rested his head against the couch cushions behind him and stared up at Jamia’s ceiling.  
“I want him to only want me.” Frank said slowly, “I wish being with me was enough for him. And I just don’t see that happening. I don’t want him to have to change who he is for my sake.”  
“That’s why you need to talk to him, Frank.” Jamia sighed, “You shouldn’t be chasing after a relationship that isn’t gonna happen. If you guys don’t want the same things you shouldn’t be wasting your time on him.”  
“You’re right.” Frank agreed morosely.  
“I don’t give a shit about being right. I just don’t want to see you get hurt. I don’t think I can handle another bender like the one we pulled last night.” Jamia laughed, reaching for the baggie of weed and the rolling papers, “And if he breaks your fucking heart that’s what we’re going to have to do.”  
“Yeah.” Frank sighed, feeling a morbid smile pull at his lips.  
  
They had just finished smoking another joint when Frank’s phone rang. He banged his knee against the edge of the coffee table as he scrambled to answer it. But it wasn’t Gerard, it was Frank’s landlord. He had just gotten off the phone with an inspector and he said he was sorry, but that he had some bad news. The remains of the previous upstairs tenant had not been completely removed following the “incident.” A significant amount of human remains and bathwater had remained in one of the walls for months. The extent of the damage and contamination was unknown to Frank’s landlord, but he said an inspector would be by to determine the status of Frank’s apartment. Frank’s landlord said that things didn’t look good and that for Frank’s safety, he should evacuate immediately. He feared the place would be deemed “unlivable.”  
Frank was too high to process half of what the guy said. What he gathered was that it would be best if he left his apartment immediately. The building management company would pay for him to stay in a hotel until the status of his apartment could be properly determined. If it was unlivable, he would get his deposit back in full and they would pay for a hotel until he could find another place. The guy said something about compensating Frank for his personal belongings, but Frank’s brain was already locked into dizzying circular thoughts of living in an apartment full of dead-person-mold for the last month. Frank wasn’t much of a germophobe, but the idea that there had been vague ‘human remains’ in his walls while he was living there sucked the air out of his lungs. When the guy suggested Frank come by to take a look an available unit on a different floor in the same building, Frank hung up on him.  
He dropped onto Jamia’s couch and heaved a long, distressed sigh.  
“Everything okay?” Jamia asked, pointing the remote towards the TV and muting it.  
“No.” Frank said, “Actually, I don’t think my life could possibly get any fucking worse.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i swear that plot twist was 100% necessary. you'll thank me l8r. ; )


	15. Wolf-Proof

When Gerard woke up on Sunday morning he felt like he’d been run over by a train 30 times, poured into a mold, baked back into a solid form, and then thrown off of sharp, rocky cliff.  
At least, Gerard thought it was Sunday? The moon cycles sometimes bled together, as it were, and waking up after spending the night as a wolf always left him disoriented and spent.  
After his usual morning ritual of sleeping in the bathtub until the water turned cold and eating the 12-egg omelette that Mikey had so graciously prepared him, Gerard collapsed onto the pull-out-bed in the den of the small cabin. The springs of the old mattress groaned under his weight.  
His body was begging for sleep. Every single fiber of his being ached. Gerard pulled an old faded quilt over his head and tried to let himself fade, working hard ignore the ringing in his ears and the dull roaring fire crawling under his skin.  
His mind drifted off to Frank, naturally. First it was just the thought of Frank watching him eat a 12 egg omelette. Frank knew Gerard wasn’t vegan, but Gerard had never asked if it bothered him or not. Given the physical strain the monthly transitions put on his body, he’d never be able to go vegan, even if by some miniscule chance he should ever want to.  
The springs in the old, lumpy mattress creaked as Gerard rolled over and nuzzled his face against the dusty, old couch pillow. He took a deep breath, savoring the familiar scents of pine and smoke, and even traces of his grandmother’s perfume if he really focused.  
Frank had been acting strangely the last time they’d been together. It was something in his scent, more than anything else. He was on edge and seemed to tense up even more every time Gerard spoke to him. It wasn’t as if he could explain it to Frank. He wasn’t sure what he had said or done, and the more he thought about it, the more worried he grew. The springs creaked under his weight as he shifted again. He couldn’t believe he was tossing and turning. Sleep always came easy for him after a full moon, whether he wanted it to or not.  
Another few moments of anxious worrying over Frank and he was crawling off the creaky pull-out-bed and stumbling down the hallway towards the kitchen.  
Mikey looked just as surprised to see Gerard out of bed and walking around the kitchen. He looked up from his laptop, with his coffee mug frozen at his bottom lip.  
“Hey.” Gerard yawned.  
“Uh. Hi?” Mikey said softly, lowering the mug, “Is everything okay?”  
“Yeah. Just can’t sleep.” Gerard offered hoarsely, feeling around in his coat pockets for his cellphone.  
“Can’t sleep?” Mikey asked, raising an eyebrow.  
“Yeah. I don’t know.” Gerard said, pulling out his phone.  
He had two missed calls and a voicemail from Frank. Instead of listening to the voicemail message, he immediately called Frank back. He meandered out of the kitchen and back towards the pull-out-bed to get out of Mikey’s curious, nosy hearing-range.  
“Gerard?” Frank breathed, picking up after only two rings.  
“Frank. Is everything- Are you okay?” Gerard asked, trying to keep the hoarseness and the urgency out of his voice. His throat was dry. He should’ve sipped some water before calling Frank. He didn’t even know what time it was or if it was appropriate for him to sound so exhausted.  
He perched on the edge of the bed, glancing out the windows at the snow-covered woods.  
“I’m… no. Yes? I don’t know. Did you get my message?” Frank asked. His voice was higher than normal and wobbling a little. Gerard could tell he was upset, even through the shitty cell phone reception.  
“No. I called as soon as I saw you called.” Gerard said, “Frank, what’s wrong?”  
“I had to evacuate my apartment because there’s dead-guy mold.” Frank said flatly. “And everything is just so crazy right now and I just-” His voice broke.  
“Dead-guy mold? What do you mean?” Gerard asked. He hated himself for the relief he felt over the realization that whatever was wrong with Frank wasn’t because of something he’d done.  
“I don’t know. I guess they didn’t clean everything before the replaced the ceilings and all my stuff is like… _contaminated._ With like, I don’t know? Biohazardous dead-guy stuff.” Frank explained, voice wavering more and more, “It’s like something out of a bad horror movie. They have to burn all my shit”  
“Oh.” Gerard said dumbly. “...Frank that’s… fucking terrible. Are you okay?”  
“Technically.” Frank sighed. “I’m in Jersey right now. I’m gonna just like, stay with my mom until I can find another place, I guess? I don’t know what else to do.”  
“Frank, you don’t have to do that.” Gerard said. “Between me and Mikey and-”  
“No!” Frank interrupted, “... _No thank you,_ I mean. That’s not why I called. It’s fine. I’ve got it figured out, I think. I just wanted to talk to you. Can we talk about something that isn’t the total destruction of my life? How are things at the cabin?”  
“They’re… _good.”_ Gerard yawned. He was too exhausted to come up with a decent lie.  
“Good?” Frank asked, “You sound exhausted, what have you guys been doing?”  
“Oh, you know…” Gerard trailed off, grasping for a subject change, “I didn’t know your mom lived in Jersey?”  
“Oh. Yeah.” Frank said. “I hadn’t been out here in awhile actually. The suburbs are more depressing than I remembered... but I found my old skateboard in the garage.”  
Most of the distress had evaporated from Frank’s voice.  
“You skate?” Gerard asked incredulously. He laid back on the bed and closed his eyes, pulling the quilt back over himself. He would’ve given the moon to have Frank curled up beside him. Well, he would’ve happily given the moon away at any price if it meant his monthly lunar-based misery would come to an end. He would've given a lot to have Frank beside him on the cheap, crappy mattress.  
“I used to in high school.” Frank explained, “I can still like, ollie and shit but I’m not nearly as good as I used to be.”  
“What were you like in high school?” Gerard mused.  
“I was such a piece of shit.” Frank laughed, “Total stoner. I skated but mostly I hung out with the punk kids, I guess? I had this atrocious faux hawk… I was always getting caught for the dumbest shit.”  
“Like what?” Gerard asked.  
“Um well, like one time I was grounded for a whole fucking month because I accidentally lit a church on fire.”  
“How do you accidentally light a church on fire?” Gerard laughed.  
“I’d always smoke behind the church across the street from my school cause the teachers never looked over there. It had been a particularly dry spring and uh… well… ”  
“Oh I woulda been so in love with you.” Gerard said absentmindedly. He almost choked on the air in his lungs when he realized what he’d said.  
Frank was quiet on the other line for a moment. Gerard wanted to punch himself in the face over and over, once for every millisecond Frank didn’t speak.  
“...Well it’s a shame you weren’t around then,” Frank said eventually. His voice had gone soft, “Because no one wanted to go to the fucking prom with me.”  
“You went to prom without a date?” Gerard asked.  
 _“Fuck no.”_ Frank scoffed, “I don’t actually remember what I did, which means I probably just got high with my friends... What were you like in high school?”  
“I was a loser.” Gerard said, “I mostly stuck with the dungeons and dragons kids. They all had really great comic book collections.”  
“You were a nerd?” Frank asked incredulously, “I don’t believe that at all.”  
“I was a dungeon master, actually. King of the nerds. I could show you pictures.” Gerard promised, “I made a point to destroy most of them, but I think my mom still has a bunch hiding somewhere.”  
“Me and my friends probably woulda kicked your ass.” Frank said.  
“Yeah?” Gerard asked.  
“Yeah.” Frank sighed, “Like I said, I was a real piece of shit.”  
“As long as you would’ve gone to the prom with me after, I would’ve been cool with it.” Gerard laughed. He felt light. Now that his anxiety had faded the exhaustion had set in. He tried to stifle a yawn, but it fought it’s way out of his mouth loudly anyways.  
“Well, uh, I don’t wanna keep you. You’re voice is coming in kinda fuzzy anyways. You weren’t kidding about the shitty reception.” Frank said softly.  
“It sucks. We should really get a landline out here or something.” Gerard sighed.  
“When are you coming back?” Frank asked.  
Gerard could hear the pleading in his voice. It was the closest he’d ever get to begging Gerard to come back to the city and save him from the D-list horror film his life had become. There was nothing Gerard could do to change his answer and it devastated him.  
A normal friend would already be starting their car to head back to the city to help Frank.  
“I’ll be back Wednesday morning.” Gerard said, “Are you sure you don’t want me to send Mikey back to the city to give you my keys? You can totally stay at my place.”  
“I’m fine.” Frank sighed, “Don’t waste the gas. Have fun.”  
“Alright.” Gerard yawned, “Well, can I see you when I get back?”  
“I’d like that.” Frank said, voice crackling as the reception faded in and out. “I dunno where I’ll be so just call me or something.”  
“I’m so sorry about your apartment, Frank.” Gerard sighed.  
“It’s not your fault.” Frank said, mirroring Gerard’s deep sigh, “I’ll see you soon. Thanks for uh, talking to me just now. I… feel a lot better.”  
“It’s the least I could do, Frankie. See you soon.” Gerard said.  
He didn't add how much he missed Frank, or how fucking sorry he was that he couldn't come to Frank's rescue.  
Gerard waited for Frank to hang up, keeping the phone pressed to his ear until he was sure Frank was gone.  
It took everything out of Gerard to not take his temper out on his phone. If he threw it across the room and let it shatter into ten thousand pieces, it would be harder to call Frank when he got back to Manhattan.  
Then it took everything out of Mikey to keep Gerard from getting in the car and driving back to the city. Mikey didn’t want to say that Frank was safer away from Gerard, and Gerard didn’t want to hear it. But he had to say it, and Gerard had to remember it.  
Gerard nearly punched a hole in the wall when Mikey pointed out that everything would be different if Gerard had just told Frank he was a werewolf in the first place.  
Exhausted, frustrated, and full of longing, Gerard passed out on the pull-out-bed until moonrise.  
  
Gerard and Mikey had agreed to let the wolf out into the woods that night.  
It was something they did from time to time to try and wear the wolf out. It seemed to reduce the impact the transition on Gerard’s body, which made sense in a way. If the wolf spent more time running through the trees than trying to fight it’s way out of a tightly locked basement, Gerard woke up less beaten up.  
There were a few precautions that had to be taken before the wolf could be set free to roam the woods at night. First things first, Mikey had gone down to the nearest ranger station during the day to check the camping and hunting registrars for the area to verify that -surprise- in the dead of winter, there were very few innocent people out there for Gerard to maul.  
The younger Way had also spent part of the morning checking all the cabin doors to make sure they were wolf-proof. The last thing they needed was a hungry, rabid wolf trying to tear Mikey limb from limb when they were alone in the woods.  
In the early afternoon, Mikey hiked through the snow to the top of a hill not far from the cabin and set out a few cuts of bloody steak on top of a rock for when the wolf first came out. This would lead the wolf away from the cabin when it was most energetic.  
Mikey returned from his hike just as the sky was starting to dim. The winter sun was buried behind the overcast skies, which were starting to look like they might be threatening snow. Mikey was thankful he’d bothered to put chains on his tires first thing in the morning, because he wouldn’t be able to do it in the night if there was a wolf meandering through the woods.  
By the time Mikey got inside the cabin and had removed his muddy boots, Gerard was already starting to strip his clothes off. Gerard handed Mikey his black coat, promising that the vague smell of Frank that lingered on the wool exterior would be enough to bring the wolf back. Mikey didn’t ask and Gerard didn’t elaborate further.  
Gerard pushed past his younger brother and stepped out into the snow, completely naked.  
The freezing snow burned the bottoms of his feet, but it was a welcomed burn. His body was temperature was steadily rising. The icy wind curled around him, making contact with the beads of sweat that had formed on his back. It sent a soothing chill through his aching muscles as they started to tear apart.  
He doubled over when he felt his bones start to bend and contort. He might’ve puked on the white snow, then again, he might’ve just imagined he had. It was hard to focus on anything other than the twisting pain.  
Gerard just held his breath and thought of Frank until the pain subsided and there was nothing left but the urge to run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the part abt prom killed me tbh.


	16. Trust Issues

The late morning drive from the cabin to the city was mostly peaceful.  
Mikey was thankful that Gerard slept through the more difficult parts of the drive. The forest roads were blanketed in snow, and while it was nothing the car couldn’t handle, it still required Mikey’s complete and undivided attention. It was nice to drive through the blinding white woods without the distraction of the radio, or the babbling of his older brother who was still completely in denial about his hopeless crush on Frank Iero.  
Gerard woke up right as they turned off the forestry roads and started to drive into civilization, It was like his lupine senses somehow allowed him to detect their distance from the nearest Starbucks. And like clockwork, he requested they stop at for coffee and Mikey was happy to oblige.  
Of course, Gerard fell asleep once they were back on the road again. Mikey finished his latte in silence and even managed to drink half of Gerard’s in spite of the fact that it had gone cold.  
~  
Gerard was calling Frank before they could even see Manhattan in the distance. Mikey smirked fondly as he watched his older brother absentmindedly turn the radio down so that he could hear Frank over the phone better. He politely tuned-out their conversation, entirely disinterested in listening to Gerard’s butchered attempts at flirting.  
Mikey knew how Gerard’s mind worked. Gerard had probably been looking for an excuse to show Frank he cared in some subtle, vague sort of way that he could later deny, and Frank’s bad luck had practically handed it to him. Gerard wasn’t going to ask Frank to stay with him because he wanted Frank to stay with him, Gerard was going to play it off on the recent turn of events in Frank’s life. Mikey wanted nothing more than to tease Gerard about it, but there was no way in hell he was going to end up responsible for any backpedaling in their relationship.  
“I’ll come to Jersey then.” Gerard insisted, snapping Mikey out of his thoughts.  
Mikey had almost swerved the car into another lane out of utter shock. Gerard had to really like Frank if he was willing to go all the way to fucking _Jersey_ for him. Frank had _no fucking idea_.  
  
When Gerard got off the phone with Frank he asked Mikey if he would drive him all the way to Frank’s mom’s house. Mikey happily declined. He wasn’t going to tease Gerard for liking Frank, but he could certainly make Gerard work for it.  
It almost wasn’t worth it, though, because Gerard complained about it for the rest of the drive through Manhattan.  
“You seriously won’t give me a ride there?” Gerard pleaded as Mikey brought the car to a stop in front of Gerard’s apartment building.  
“I’ve been taking care of your stupidity all weekend. I have work to do.” Mikey lied.  
“Mikey, come on, _please._ ” Gerard begged.  
“I can’t wait for you guys to get married.” Mikey sighed, fighting to hide a smirk, “Then he can drive you up to the cabin and I can actually do something normal during the full moons again.”  
“You’re such a dick.” Gerard grumbled, getting out of the car faster than Mikey had ever seen him do it before.  
Nothing got rid of Gerard faster than the mention of holy matrimony. It was a subject Mikey used sparingly so that it would never lose it’s power over his older brother. He seemed more afraid of the topic than usual. Which was sort of sweet in a way.  
  
Gerard might’ve broken a world record with how quickly he showered, made himself coffee, and checked around his apartment to make sure it was clean. He pulled on a set of clean clothes and dashed out the door, not even bothering to turn around when he realized he’d forgotten his hat and gloves. He regretted not going back and getting them by the time he got to the train station. His damp hair was freezing, and the tips of his ears were sore from the cold. The exhaustion in every limb in his body only made him feel ten times colder. Eventually the train pulled up against the platform, groaning to a halt in front of Gerard, and it didn’t matter if he was cold because the train was warm and he was finally on his way to Frank.  
Gerard was a particularly impatient individual, he could admit to that, but he swore the train ride would’ve tried the patience of a fucking _nun_. He listened to his Ipod, trying to will himself to not pass-the-fuck-out as he stared out the window for the first 45 minutes. The stupid thing ran out of batteries after that. He’d been too busy changing into a wolf all weekend to charge the damn thing. His body was so drained of aggression, he did nothing but sigh and shove the dead device in his bag forlornly.  
Another 45 minutes of trying to keep himself awake and the train was finally pulling into the station Frank had said he would be waiting for Gerard at. Gerard was the only one who got off the train when it stopped. The platform was completely deserted, aside from a transit worker in a uniform meandering along and sweeping litter into a dustpan.  
Gerard made his way through the turnstiles and out of the train station. He glanced out over the parking lot, not sure what he was even supposed to be looking for. He hadn’t asked Frank what kind of car he would be driving.  
He pulled out his phone and called Frank. It rang and rang and… went to his voicemail. Gerard spun around and looked up at the sign above the exit. He was exactly where Frank had told him to go. He was sure of it.  
Gerard tried not to freak out. Frank didn’t seem like the type to tell a guy to take an hour and a half train ride to the middle of rural New Jersey as a fun prank. At least, Gerard fucking hoped he wasn’t.  
The winter wind whipped around him violently, reminding Gerard he’d forgotten his fucking hat. Fucking impatience. He shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned up against the side of the building, which seemed to, almost, sort of, reduce the chill of the wind. He glanced up at the sky and sighed with relief when he didn’t see stormclouds.  
When he glanced back out towards the parking lot, he saw a beat-up, red Honda idling against the curb. The passenger side window rolled down stiffly, revealing a smirking Frank in the driver’s seat.  
Gerard quickly crossed the walkway and pulled open the passenger-side door. Before he could even think about it he was closing the space between them and crushing his lips against Frank’s. Frank froze up and made a small, helpless noise in his throat as Gerard kissed him. He thought for a few anxiety-inducing milliseconds that he’d read the situation entirely wrong and made a huge misstep, but before he could pull away Frank was tangling his fingers in Gerard’s hair and pulling him closer. He could feel Frank smiling against his lips and it made his heart flutter.  
“Hi.” Frank whispered, trying to pull back enough to look into Gerard’s eyes.  
“Hi.” Gerard repeated. He tried to wrap his arms around Frank’s neck and hug him. It was hard to be smooth and romantic in the small, cramped space but if Frank gave a fuck, he didn’t say so.  
As Gerard breathed him in, he noticed Frank smelled different. There were notes of unfamiliar laundry detergent and shampoo mixed with the familiar undercurrents of Frank’s usual scent and the brand of cigarettes he liked.  
A gust of wind billowed in through the open car door, sucking all the heat out of the car’s cabin.  
“Close the door.” Frank commanded, laughing breathily, “It’s fucking cold out.”  
Gerard nodded, ungracefully pulling away from Frank and reaching out to close the door. The passenger side window started to ascend with a loud, whirring sound as Gerard squirmed into the passenger seat. Frank put the car in drive and spun the wheel with his gloved hands. Gerard’s eyes locked on the skeleton print on the backs of the gloves.  
“Cool gloves.” Gerard said.  
“Thanks! Found ‘em in a box in my old room.” Frank grinned, waggling his fingers on the steering wheel.  
It scared the shit out of Gerard. He had to bite his lip to stop himself from telling Frank to _keep his hands on the motherfucking wheel._ He tore his eyes away from Frank’s hands and tried to focus instead on the neighborhood they were driving through.  
Gerard hadn’t known that Frank could drive at all, though he supposed it made sense. You couldn’t get anywhere growing up in the Jersey suburbs without a car. Just because Frank _could drive_ , didn’t mean he was a ‘good driver’, but _‘hey, are you a good driver?’_ seemed like a rude thing to ask someone who had been nice enough to go out of their way and pick him up from a train station in the middle of nowhere.  
“I have to pick up a few things at the store.” Frank said, cutting the silence Gerard hadn’t even been aware of, “I hope you don’t mind.”  
“I don’t mind at all.” Gerard said, “Actually, I-”  
Gerard stopped short because he- what? Just wanted to see Frank and didn’t care what the fuck they did all day? Had missed Frank terribly? Was sorry he still hadn’t mentioned the whole werewolf thing and that he’d allowed it to get in the way of their un-relationship?  
Frank saved him from his incomplete sentence by mentioning the store he wanted to stop by was the only one in town that carried the kind of egg-replacers he liked. Gerard closed his eyes and kind of zoned out as Frank explained what he liked and didn’t like about various dairy substitutes. He didn’t know the first fucking thing about baking, let alone vegan baking, but he liked the sound of Frank’s voice. He’d missed it.  
He didn’t open his eyes until Frank cut the engine.  
“You can stay in the car if you want, sleeping beauty.” Frank teased, “I’ll be in and out in 5 minutes.”  
“No I’ll come in with you.” Gerard said groggily, sliding out of the passenger seat.  
“I can make us some coffee when we get back to my mom’s place.” Frank promised.  
  
All of Jersey looked the same to Gerard. The dreary grocery store in Frank’s neighborhood was no exception. The aisles were full of parents yelling at their children with their thick Jersey twangs, depressed old people, and delinquent teenagers. Frank would’ve stood out to Gerard, whether they had gone in together or not. He didn’t look like someone who’d just lost his apartment to some kind of unpredictable, random disaster. In fact, he was the only the person in the entire store who looked happy, and Gerard couldn’t help but wish it had something to do with him.  
Frank held his nose and made loud gagging sounds as they maneuvered through the meat department, as if they were the only two people in the store. His behavior earned him a few dirty looks from sour old ladies. Gerard couldn’t tell if it was his behavior, the dyed hair or a combination of the two.  
As Gerard looked around the store, he started to doubt there was a single thing in the store that was vegan. He wouldn’t have been surprised if everything in the produce department was routinely sprayed with meat juice, just to spite vegans. Jersey could be weird like that, especially the little towns.  
Frank actually fucking turned around and grinned at Gerard when he stopped in front of a small, refrigerated case of packaged soy products. He held up a package of tofu like he’d just won a contest and the trophy was soybeans.  
It took the smallest things to make Frank happy and Gerard loved him for it. He could follow the moody punk around the grocery store every day and never get bored of it. But instead of saying so, Gerard just pulled Frank by the front of his coat and kissed him softly. Frank went limp under Gerard’s touch, letting his arms fall at his sides, still tightly clutching the package of fucking tofu in one of his skeleton gloves.  
“I missed you.” Gerard whispered when he finally let Frank go.  
Frank just blushed and went back to babbling about his stupid baking substitutes. Gerard didn’t know the first thing about baking, but he could tell Frank wasn’t making any sense, even to someone who did know about baking.  
Eventually they paid for their groceries and made their way out of the store. It had taken them way more than 5 minutes. If Gerard had to guess, he’d say that nothing Frank insisted would take only 5 minutes, ever actually took only 5 minutes.  
  
The drive to Frank’s mom’s house was short and scenic. Frank pointed out his high school and the church he’d almost burned down across the street. It was an ugly, modern building, with a huge, white metal cross affixed to the top of it. Gerard thought Frank would’ve done the world a favor if the fire he’d started all those years ago had actually done any damage.  
A few moments later Frank was pointing to the street corner where he’d had his first kiss. As Gerard stared out at the empty expanse of concrete Frank spoke of so fondly, he hated himself just a little bit. He didn’t remember the first time he’d kissed Frank. It might’ve been at the bar, or in the cab on their way back to Frank’s place. It could’ve been they didn’t start kissing until they got to Frank’s apartment. That was likely.  
Gerard supposed he could just ask Frank, but he didn’t know how Frank would take it and he didn’t want to upset him when he’d already had such a bad week.  
While Gerard slumped into a bout of pitiful self-loathing, Frank went on talking, pointing out other landmarks that were of sentimental value to him as he drove slowly through the neighborhoods. He looked fucking smug whenever he pointed out a house he’d egged or a mailbox he’d blown up with firecrackers. He hadn’t been joking when he’d told Gerard he’d been a piece of shit troublemaker.  
Frank had grown up in a cute, quiet part of town. The houses, with their varying colors of chipped paint, snow-covered roofs, and weathered, tacky lawn ornaments, all looked sort of identical in a way. It reminded Gerard of the part of Jersey he’d grown up in.  
Frank pulled the car in front of an old grey house nestled in the middle of the block. From the outside the house looked plain and simple, blending in with the rest of the houses.  
Gerard had been so caught up in his thoughts, so worn out from the nights of transitioning, that it hadn’t even occurred to him that they were going to Frank’s mom’s house where he would inevitably be meeting Frank’s _mom_.  
Frank hadn’t even mentioned his mom, which Gerard suddenly found a little strange. What if she was a mean, old, homophobic racist and that was why Frank hadn’t mentioned her? What if she was totally normal and sweet and polite but completely hated artists like Gerard? Gerard wasn’t sure what she would be like, or how Frank would introduce Gerard to her.  
Frank wouldn’t even acknowledge that he and Gerard were friends the last time they’d spoken about it. Gerard supposed they were just… _acquaintances?_ Acquaintances who liked to shower together ...and cook for each other ...and frequently engage in exhaustingly perfect sex.  
They were long overdue for an updated version of that miserable conversation but the timing couldn’t have possibly been worse.  
Gerard grabbed a bag of groceries from the back seat and followed Frank through the metal gate, anxiously noting the ‘Beware of Dog’ sign attached to it. That was _just great_. Gerard liked dogs just fine, it was just that, well, dogs didn’t always seem to _like him back._  
He couldn’t believe he was following Frank, his not-boyfriend, into the house he’d grown up in, where he’d quite possibly be meeting Frank’s mom and her dog. Or maybe it was “dogs”. Dog plural. **Several dogs.**  
It would be an understatement to say that Gerard was nervous.  
  
“So, um, my mom’s not actually gonna be home for a few hours.” Frank explained as he led Gerard down a path around the side of the house that led to a basement door, “...So like, you don’t have to meet her if you don’t want to… but like, you can... if you want.”  
Gerard released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He to not let his relief show on his face as Frank shot him a quick, curious glance while he was fumbling with a set of house keys.  
The offer was simple and innocent enough, but the implications of Gerard’s answer would be huge. He didn’t know if he wanted to meet Frank’s mom or not. On one hand, yes. _Absolutely._ On the other hand, there’d be that awkward moment where she looked at him and then at Frank and then back at him and… _oh God._  
“You don’t have to decide right now. You can think about it.” Frank offered quickly, pushing the door open and grabbing the grocery bag out of Gerard’s hands. It didn’t show on his face, but Gerard felt like he’d let Frank down by not jumping to answer. It felt like further evidence he didn’t belong in Frank’s good graces - or in his childhood home, for that matter.  
Gerard followed Frank up a dark, creaky stairway into a small kitchen. Gerard wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but the place was... nothing like he thought it would be. It smelled like cigarettes and something artificially floral. In fact, fake flowers seemed to be Frank’s mother’s specialty. The kitchen was covered in framed pictures of flowers, floral wall paper, dusty old lace hung from the curtain rods, a well-worn floral tablecloth covered the small table in the corner. The table itself, was occupied by an ashtray and a vase full of… _fake flowers,_ of course. There were flowers everywhere, but none of them were living.  
“Your mom likes flowers.” Gerard commented, cutting the silence.  
“She sure does.” Frank laughed. “But just the ones you can’t kill. She’s terrible at actually keeping things alive- _Plants alive_ , I mean. She kept me alive just fine and the dogs-”  
“Yeah, I saw a beware of dog sign.” Gerard interrupted, “Does your mom have dogs?”  
“Oh, um, she used to.” Frank said, frowning slightly, “You noticed the sign, huh?”  
Gerard nodded, watching as Frank shoved an entire bag of groceries into the refrigerator without sorting them. He was acting sort of strangely, now that Gerard thought about it. He was on-edge and distracted. Gerard couldn’t imagine what the fuck must’ve been going on in the guy’s head. Even if Frank was one of those ‘the less you own, the freer you are’ anarchist-types, Gerard still couldn’t imagine he’d be okay with suddenly losing all his worldly possessions a few months after witnessing his neighbor’s horrific death. No one in their right mind would be okay with that.  
“We kept the sign on the fence to keep burglars out.” Frank explained, “People are like, less likely to break into your house if they think you have a dog… or something?”  
He shrugged and spun around towards the counter.  
“You still want coffee?” he asked, starting to fill the coffee pot with water without waiting for Gerard to answer.  
“Frank?” Gerard asked softly, reaching out to grab his shoulder.  
“Yeah?” Frank replied, slipping a filter full of coffee grounds in the basket.  
“Are you okay?” Gerard asked.  
“Yeah?” Frank answered, spinning around and leaning against the counter. His face was completely blank as he stared back at Gerard.  
“No, I mean like, are you _okay?_ ” Gerard tried again, “You’ve been through a lot…”  
“I’m fine.” Frank shrugged.  
Gerard stepped closer and slid his fingers along Frank’s jaw. Frank leaned into Gerard’s hand and closed his eyes.  
“I was worried about you.” Gerard said softly. “Or, I mean, I _am_ worried about you.  
“I can handle myself just fine.” Frank offered, trying to take a stab at ‘reassuring.’ He reached a hand up and laced his fingers with Gerard’s as he nuzzled his palm.  
“I didn’t say you couldn’t.” Gerard argued, “I just… I wasn’t there for you and-”  
“I don’t need you.” Frank interrupted, opening his eyes slowly and locking them with Gerard’s. The statement didn’t come from a place of anger. In fact, as cold as it was, it just sounded matter-of-fact.  
“I know you don’t...” Gerard said, trying to not let how taken aback he was show in his face. He tried to pull his hand away but Frank wouldn’t let him. The coffee pot gurgled behind them, cutting up the heavy, awkward feeling curling in Gerard’s chest.  
“Listen,” Frank sighed, “I don’t want all this stuff that’s happening with me to complicate things between us. They’re already complicated enough.”  
Gerard had no idea what the fuck that was supposed to mean but it made him ten times more uncomfortable than he already was.  
“What do you mean?” Gerard asked slowly. He could think of quite a few different aspects of their un-relationship that were complicated but he wasn’t sure what Frank was referring to.  
Instead of answering him, Frank just shook his head and laughed.  
Nothing was funny about Frank’s situation. About _their_ situation. Gerard didn’t think so. He was about to say so when Frank leaned forward and pressed his lips against Gerard’s.  
Gerard wanted to argue against Frank’s attempt to change the subject but it was hard to argue with Frank’s tongue in his mouth. If the guy just wanted a distraction, Gerard was happy to be a distraction. They kissed lazily against the counter, helping each other out of their coats. Gerard’s coat had all these complicated buttons that Frank absolutely hated. He playfully threatened to rip them off as Gerard mouthed at his neck.  
Gerard hadn't really _looked_ at what Frank was wearing until he was sliding out of his coat. His clothes were all black and impossibly tight. His shirt had holes and bleach stains all over it and rode up over his hips, exposing his tattoos. Gerard’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of them.  
“What the fuck are you wearing?” he asked softly.  
“Oh, uh-” Frank stammered, blushing and glancing down at himself self-consciously, “I dug a bunch of my stuff from highschool out of storage... It’s not that bad is it? I mean, I know I probably look like a fucking teenager and all-”  
“You look… _good.”_ Gerard said slowly.  
“Good?” Frank repeated in discontentment, pulling the shirt down to try and stretch it over his exposed skin, “I had a feeling it was a little too much but-”  
“No, that’s not what I meant.” Gerard countered, “You look _fucking good_ , Frankie.”  
“Oh.” Frank breathed, blushing harder.  
Gerard reached out and ran his fingers over Frank’s strip of exposed skin.  
Gerard had either said or done the right thing, because suddenly Frank was pulling him by the hand and leading him down the stairs and down another set of stairs to the basement. Gerard trailed behind Frank into a dimly lit bedroom. The walls were covered in old, weathered punk posters which meant that either Frank’s mom was a closet punk or they were in Frank’s old room. Gerard guessed it was the latter.  
They had to weave around a few stacks of cardboard boxes to get to the bed. Gerard barely had time to take in his surroundings before Frank was pushing him down on the bed and sliding on top of him. Frank leaned back and pulled the tight black shirt over his head. Gerard hated to see it go, but loved watching Frank’s tattoos stretch and distort as he reached his arms over his head to slide it off.  
Gerard rolled his hips and pushed Frank down onto the mattress, kissing him slowly as he ground his hips against Frank’s. There was no sense of urgency behind the way Frank sunk his teeth into Gerard’s lower lip. They had hours alone together, undisturbed in a basement in the middle of Nowhere, New jersey.  
Gerard trailed slowly, sweet kisses down Frank’s neck, working his way over his collar bones, over the arches of his ribs, down his sides towards his hips. It wasn’t like Gerard could kiss away everything that had happened to Frank in the past couple of months, but he could certainly try. Every time Frank tried to move, Gerard pinned him down harder, determined to kiss every inch of his skin. Frank tasted salty and sweet and familiar. Gerard had missed the taste. He’d missed the warmth. He’d missed the sounds Frank made when he was turned on.  
Gerard palmed at Frank’s hard-on through his jeans but made no motion to take them off. In no time at all Frank was a moaning wreck under him, and it was obvious he fucking loved it.  
“I never thought I’d ever say this,” Frank breathed, “But _stop fucking kissing me_.”  
“Why?” Gerard asked, pulling his lips away from Frank’s ribs and looking up at him curiously.  
Frank reached out for the nightstand, pulling out the top drawer and feeling around inside. He retrieved a string of condom wrappers, and inspected the packages in the dim of the room.  
“These expired like, three years ago.” Frank huffed, tossing them onto the floor.  
He stuck his hand in the drawer again, and felt around for a few moments, eventually retrieving a bottle of lube.  
“And this belongs in a fucking museum.” he laughed. “Fuck. I should’ve thought about this while we were at the store. Why didn’t you remind me?”  
“The thought hadn’t crossed my mind, I guess?” Gerard shrugged, sliding into the place beside Frank on the bed and wrapping his arm around Frank’s middle.  
“It didn’t?” Frank asked incredulously.  
“No.” Gerard said, nuzzling his face in the crook of Frank’s neck, “I guess I wasn’t sure if you’d even want to. I usually keep a few in my bag but I left in kind of a rush and I-”  
“Wait,” Frank interrupted, “You came all the way out here for reasons _other than fucking?_ ”  
“Well… yeah?” Gerard said, feeling himself flush with hurt and embarrassment, “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”  
“No, I didn’t mean it like that.” Frank said, “I’m just… I don’t know? Surprised?”  
“I came here to ask you to come stay with me, in the city.” Gerard offered bitterly.  
“I won’t.” Frank replied quickly.  
“Why not?” Gerard asked, letting Frank’s previous, incredibly hurtful insinuations drop, “It would be so much easier to go view apartments and stuff if you didn’t have to travel all the way from here.”  
Frank rolled onto his side to face Gerard and considered him with a hopeless look as their eyes locked.  
“If you wanna stay here to help your mom out or something, that’s fine, but if you’re worried about intruding, you wouldn’t be.” Gerard promised, running his hand through Frank’s hair.  
“Gerard, I can’t.” Frank sighed, letting his lids fall closed, and nuzzling against the pillows, “Don’t use seduction as a persuasion tool. It’s not fair.”  
Gerard couldn’t help but smirk. He hadn’t even been trying to convince Frank by physical means. The idea that he had that kind of power over someone made his heart flutter.  
“Please, Frank. Come stay with me.” Gerard singsonged, gently tracing his fingers along Frank’s spine.  
“No.” Frank insisted, but there was a small smile on his face.  
“Please,” Gerard repeated, “I’ll make it worth your while.”  
“I don’t know, Gerard…” Frank breathed, _“Maybe.”_  
‘Maybe’ was close enough to ‘yes’ in Gerard’s mind. It definitely wasn’t ‘no’.  
Gerard kissed Frank hungrily as if kissing would stop the stupid fluttery feeling in his chest. He hadn’t forgotten that they’d been in the middle of something. He slid his hand down and started working on Frank’s ridiculous studded belt. He would’ve just shoved his hand under the waistband if Frank’s pants weren’t so fucking tight, but being as they were, it took considerable effort to one-handedly undo the button and fly.  
Even with the fly down, Gerard nearly sprained his wrist trying to wrap his hand around Frank’s dick. He didn’t care if it was fucking broken, if it meant Frank would moan into his mouth like that a few more times.  
The mutual handjob thing had never really done much for Gerard. There was something different about it when it was with Frank. Well, everything was different with Frank, but handjobs especially. Gerard wasn’t sure if it was Frank's lip ring, or the way Frank warm, sweet breath felt against his face - or maybe it was both. Either way it drove Gerard crazy.  
“We don’t have to use condoms, you know?” Frank gritted out against Gerard’s neck.  
Gerard wanted to fucking slap him for even suggesting such a thing. Even so he didn’t slow the pace of his stroking.  
“I have a whole speech for stupid requests like that.” Gerard panted out, “But I know you know better so I’ll save it.”  
“You got tested.” Frank countered breathily, _“I trust you.”_  
 _“Frank.”_ Gerard groaned in protest. Frank was sliding his hand over Gerard’s cock with torturously slow, even strokes.  
“I want you… _like that._ ” Frank whispered.  
Gerard didn’t make exceptions on safe sex. It was safe sex or no sex. No ‘if’s, ‘and’s, or ‘but’s. That didn’t mean he couldn’t fantasize about the prospect of unsafe sex. Of skin on skin. Of being close to Frank like that. The idea made him dizzy.  
They said nothing more on the matter, since the thought alone had pushed Gerard over the edge and he was coming all over Frank’s hand. Frank was a moment behind him, biting Gerard’s neck to stifle his own moans.  
They both laid there, panting and spent. When they finally made eye contact, Gerard saw guilt in Frank’s eyes. He knew he’d crossed a line. He had to know he’d crossed a line. He’d asked for something he would’ve easily judged Gerard for.  
“I’m sorry.” Frank whispered, “I didn’t-”  
“It’s alright.” Gerard interrupted, pulling Frank closer, completely ignoring the smears of come on everything, “Just… we’ll talk about it later. Okay?”  
“Okay.” Frank agreed softly.  
Gerard didn’t know what time it was, but it didn’t matter. The weight of his miserable weekend and Frank’s bad situation and their strange afternoon was finally hitting him all at once. Gerard was completely powerless in the way that sleep came for him.

### Notes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this whole fic is just basically a PSA for safe sex. but it's true PRACTICE SAFE SEX.   
> tgif~ (thank god it's........................................................... frerard!)


	17. Unpunk

Gerard startled awake when he heard the wooden floorboards up above him creaking. He stretched his sore limbs and rolled over to wrap his arm around Frank, only to find he was alone in the bed.  
 _“Frank?”_ He called out into the darkness softly. He sat up and squinted in the dark, trying to look for any signs of his un-lover. It was hard to make sense of anything when the room was pitch black. There was no light pouring in through the small windows along the top of the far wall, which meant the sun had already gone down.  
He tried to stifle a yawn as searched the darkness for the glowing red numbers of a digital clock, but he didn’t find any. He had no idea what time it was or how long he’d been out. His mouth was dry and he really had to pee.  
He drowsily slid out of the bed, forgetting all about the boxes littering the floor. His foot connected with the corner of one of the boxes and his sore muscles protested as he very nearly saved himself from crashing into another stack of boxes. He let out a deep breath and felt along the wall beside the door for the lightswitch. Eventually he found it and flipped the lights on, shielding his eyes from the light that flooded the tiny bedroom.  
Frank’s room did not contain any way to tell time, which sort of fell in line with everything else Gerard could surmise about younger Frank.  
Gerard held completely still and listened to the sounds coming from upstairs. His heart sunk when he picked out multiple sets of footsteps. He thought he could make out Frank’s voice… And a second voice, higher in pitch. If Gerard had to guess, he’d say he slept through his opportunity to avoid meeting Frank’s mom.  
He wanted to run a hand through his hair but his hand wasn’t exactly clean. His palm was stiff with the come he hadn’t bothered to wipe off before passing out. He glanced down at his clothes to find they were also pretty covered in the telltale substance. Why had he worn black? Come was 300 million times more noticeable when it was dried into the black fabric. It would be awful hard to fake the nature of his un-relationship with Frank if it was written all over his… _clothes._  
Between the one-night-stands and the lycanthropy, Gerard was an evolved quick-thinker. He pulled his shirt off -which had suffered more staining than his pants- and started peeling off the tape on the cardboard box closest to him, smirking when he pulled back the cardboard flaps and found the box to be full of clothes from Frank’s high school wardrobe.  
High schooler Frank had been much smaller than him, and apparently liked his band t-shirts impossibly tight, so it took a considerable amount of time to find something that would fit him. _‘Fit’_ wasn’t even the right word. The black sweatshirt he eventually pulled on was incredibly tight on him. He didn’t recognize the logo on it but at least it wasn’t covered in come.  
After tugging hopelessly at the sleeves of the sweatshirt for a brief moment, Gerard gave up and let his eyes roam over the details of the small room. The place was like a fucking time capsule. The posters on the walls were all approaching a decade in age. The shelves of dusty horror novels and the complimenting record-collection solidified Gerard’s previous claims that he would’ve been completely in love with Frank if they’d known each other in high school. Especially if Frank had dressed the way he was dressed earlier that day.  
He supposed he was maybe in love with Frank now, though pinning down his feelings with words only seemed to do them an injustice. It was _so much more complicated_ than love...  
Everything about this mess made Gerard feel like a fucking teenager. Hell, he looked like a fucking teenager. And so did Frank, for that matter.  
Gerard’s heart nearly stopped when he heard footsteps on the basement stairs. There was a fleeting moment where he wasn’t sure if he should try to look busy or not but before he could find a busy-looking activity, the bedroom door was swinging open.  
It was just Frank, thank God. He’d changed his clothes and had a steaming mug of coffee in his hand. They stared at each other awkwardly for a moment. The residual guilt of their earlier heated exchange of words was still present in Frank’s eyes.  
“Nice sweatshirt.” Frank said softly, passing Gerard the mug like it was a peace offering.  
“Thanks.” Gerard mumbled, smiling weakly.  
The mug was fucking hot to the touch. He had no idea how Frank had carried it down the stairs. It must’ve been those adorably stupid fingerless gloves he’d been wearing all day. He quickly set it down on the edge of the bookshelf beside him, making sure not to slosh any liquid onto the dusty surface.  
“So…” Frank started, clearing his throat nervously, “My mom got home sooner than I thought she would. And like, you don’t have to-” He stammered, “Like… We could just slip out-”  
“I have no problem meeting your mom, Frank.” Gerard interrupted. He knew what Frank had been about to say. He couldn’t believe he would suggest something so immature. Their situation was feeling more and more like fucking high school all the time.  
“Really,” Gerard continued, trying to sound reassuring, “It’s not a big deal.”  
Frank just pursed his lips and nodded his head. He was still staring at Gerard awkwardly. Gerard wanted Frank to stop looking at him like that. He also wanted him to stop standing in the doorway and just come in the fucking room already. He took a step forward and pulled Frank by the front of his shirt into the room.  
“You’re gonna stretch out my-”  
“Oh, am I?” Gerard teased, closing the door behind them, “You would know the first thing about _that_ , wouldn’t you?”  
“But Gerard, I like this shirt.” Frank whined softly, glancing down at his shirt and prying at Gerard’s fingers to uncurl them from the fabric. It was a white shirt with a faded black and white image that read _‘The Smiths’_ underneath. It wasn’t as tight as the shirt he’d been wearing earlier, but Gerard liked it just as much.  
“Are you trying to tell me I didn’t like all the shirts _you_ stretched out?” Gerard flirted, letting go of the shirt and framing Frank’s face with his palms.  
“No.” Frank whispered as he stared up at Gerard with traces of apprehension and guilt still flickering in his eyes. Gerard could practically see the apology on his lips. When he leaned forward to kiss Frank, he swore he could taste the apology.  
Kissing Frank was scarier now that he knew he was in love. Gerard wasn’t sure if people kissed differently once they decided they were in love. He thought for a moment that he might somehow give himself away with how he pulled Frank closer.  
Frank let himself be pulled in, wrapping his arms around Gerard’s neck as he kissed him back all slow and sweet. Frank’s lips felt the same as always. They were sweet and intoxicating like always.  
Maybe they both had to be in love for it to feel different? Gerard couldn’t decide if the way Frank kissed him back had changed over time. Now that it was on his mind, he couldn’t help but wonder if Frank loved him back. He had a thousand good reasons not to love Gerard.  
But he’d said he trusted Gerard, which almost meant more than love ever would. Trust was highly valued and hard to find among werewolves and people who liked to sleep around, alike. It went without saying that it was impossible to find among people who fell under both categories.  
Frank pulled his lips away and looked up at Gerard again, opening his mouth to start his apologizing.  
“Please don’t apologize.” Gerard said softly.  
“But-” Frank breathed.  
“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Gerard countered, shaking his head. It was true. Even if what Frank had asked of Gerard made him a fucking hypocrite. Gerard was the one who should be apologizing. There were so many things he was sorry for.  
Frank just sort of blinked up at Gerard in surprise for a few moments. His arms still hung loosely around Gerard’s shoulders. Gerard’s arms were still wrapped around his waist. He was afraid to move them, for fear that Frank would take it the wrong way. As the moment passed, he could feel the nervous tension slowly draining from Frank as the words sunk in.  
“Can I ask you something then?” Frank whispered. “It’s unrelated to… well, _that._ ”  
“Sure. Anything.” Gerard said, smiling reassuringly.  
“You have to promise not to laugh.” Frank warned, raising an eyebrow.  
“I won’t laugh.” Gerard promised.  
“...Or, I’ll try not to.” Gerard amended. “I can’t promise…”  
Frank nodded, taking a deep breath.  
  
“Can you... _read minds?_ ” Frank asked simply, darting his eyes away from Gerard’s, then back, then away again.  
Gerard thought for half a second that Frank was joking, but his face was too fucking serious for him to be joking.  
“Is it just _my_ mind? Can you read my mind?” Frank asked further.  
“No?” Gerard answered, though it sounded more like a question than an answer. It hadn’t been a question Gerard was expecting at all.  
“ _Why would you think I-?_ _No._ I can’t.” Gerard clarified, hugging Frank tighter, “...You have no idea how much I wish I could, honestly.”  
Frank stared hard into his eyes. Gerard didn’t know what the fuck he was looking for. Maybe he was looking for evidence that Gerard was lying? Maybe if you were in love with someone they could see it in your eyes and Frank was looking directly at the proof. Either way, panic started to curl in Gerard’s chest.  
“Um, why do you ask?” Gerard found himself asking, swallowing hard.  
They both startled when they heard footsteps on the basement stairs.  
“Frankie?” an older woman’s voice called out.  
Frank quickly slid away from Gerard and pulled the door open.  
“What is it, ma?” He called up the stairs.  
“Sorry to bother you, but you put the tea on the top shelf again. You know I can’t reach it up there. Could you get it down for me?” Frank’s mother called.  
“I’ll be right up!” He replied.  
He turned to look at Gerard.  
“You wanna come up with me?” he asked softly.  
Gerard glanced down at himself, and then back up at Frank.  
“Well… _Here’s the thing._ ” Gerard sighed, running his hands over the stains on his jeans.  
Frank glanced down at the come stains and let out a breathy laugh.  
“She won’t notice.” he promised, shaking his head  
“Yeah. But what if she does.” Gerard argued.  
“She won’t.” Frank repeated. “She’s kinda spazzy like me. The tea probably isn’t even on a shelf she can’t reach, she just can’t find it.”  
“Uh. Okay… but Frank, if she fucking notices…” Gerard sighed.  
“What’re you gonna do? _Sue me? Come on.”_ Frank said, beckoning for Gerard to follow him, “She’s really nice. She’ll love you, I promise.”  
Gerard let out a dramatic sigh and silently followed closely behind Frank as he made his way up the stairs. His heart beat quicker and quicker with every step.  
A small woman was bent over the counter, chopping away at something Gerard couldn’t see from where he was standing.  
“Um, Ma,” Frank started, clearing his throat, “There’s someone I want you to meet.”  
She turned around and puffed on the cigarette dangling from her lips. She didn’t look much like Frank. Gerard could see a similarity in the eyebrows, and they more or less had the same nose. Maybe their hair would’ve been the same if Frank didn’t dye his black.  
“Ma, this is Gerard. Uh, Mikey’s brother. You remember Mikey, right?” Frank asked cheerily, waving a hand in Gerard’s direction.  
“And Gerard, this is my mom.” he continued, waving the same hand towards his mom.  
Gerard held out his hand to shake her hand, but felt immediately awkward about it when Frank’s mom eyed his hand for a moment before taking it in hers.  
He hadn’t known Mikey had already met Frank’s mom. He wasn’t sure if he hated Frank or Mikey more for not slipping in that little detail. Parents always fucking loved Mikey for some reason. Gerard wouldn’t have gotten so worked up about meeting Frank’s mom if he’d known she’d already met MIkey.  
“Hi Gerard,” she said politely, “Call me Linda.”  
When she finally let go of his hand, Gerard glanced over at Frank, who was taking in the whole exchange with an unfair amount of amusement. He shot Gerard a small smile and turned to flip through the cabinets and find the tea for his mom.  
Gerard may or may not have started plotting his revenge...  
“That was Frank’s favorite sweatshirt in high school.” Linda said, eyeing the snug sweatshirt Gerard was wearing, “I can’t believe he’s letting you wear it.”  
Gerard felt his stomach drop and silently prayed that her eyes wouldn’t go any lower.  
“I was just… helping Frank go through some of the boxes downstairs and decided to put it on. I’m not even sure what this logo means.” Gerard said, pulling at the front of the sweatshirt and glancing down at it.  
“That’s the Dead Kennedys logo.” Linda explained, with a look of surprise on her face, “You don’t know about the Dead Kennedys? Never thought I’d see the day my boy brought someone around who didn’t know about them.”  
“I know plenty of people who don’t listen to the Dead Kennedys.” Frank whined with his back still turned to them. He’d gotten to the top shelves and had to stand on his tip toes to push things around. Gerard had a hard time not staring at his ass.  
“My baby’s growing up.” Linda chucked, puffing her cigarette.  
Averting his gaze, Gerard’s eyes landed on a box of tea sitting on the kitchen counter in plain sight.  
“I’m sorry but uh… is that the tea you were looking for?” Gerard asked, pointing to the box.  
Both Frank and his mom turned to look where Gerard had pointed.  
“That would be it.” Linda said. “In plain sight. Sorry I made you come up here, baby.”  
“It’s fine, ma.” Frank said, “We’ll be downstairs for a bit. I just wanted to pack a few things before heading back to the city.”  
“Alright,” Linda said, “I can drive you to the train station when you’re ready.”  
Frank headed for the stairs to the basement, and Gerard followed behind him. He stopped and turned at the top of the stairs to wave at Frank’s mom.  
“Was nice to meet you.” Gerard said.  
“You too, Gerard.” She nodded.  
Gerard grinned at her before quickly slipping down the stairs after Frank.  
“Show him your Dead Kennedys records, honey.” Linda called from the kitchen.  
  
It took Frank almost two hours to pack, not that Gerard minded one bit. He loved that Frank was so slow about everything all the time. Everything distracted him. Gerard had no fucking clue how he ever made it through high school. Homework must’ve been impossible when there were churches to burn down.  
Gerard sat on the edge of Frank’s bed and watched as he dug through the boxes. He sipped on cup after cup of coffee, wondering what the fuck he was going to do about how hopelessly in love he was. He wanted to tell Frank, but he wanted to do it right. It had to be perfect after the way they’d handled things. He couldn’t just blurt it out. They spent a lot of time going through Frank’s record collection. About 10 LPs of other punk bands Gerard didn’t know had made it into his bag for later listening. He had to stop Frank after that. There was no way he was carrying any more records all the way back to Manhattan. They agreed they’d just have to come back once Frank had found a new apartment.  
After they got everything together, they piled into Frank’s mom’s car. It wasn’t uncomfortable like Gerard had thought it would be. Linda was somehow almost cooler than Gerard’s mom, which took Gerard by surprise. He sat in the back seat and listened to Frank and Linda chat away in the front seat about apartment viewings and all the punk bands Gerard didn’t know about.  
In his defense, there were probably dozens of bands Gerard liked that Frank had never heard.  
“Thank you so much for letting him stay with you, Gerard.” Linda said as the car pulled up to the curb in front of the train station.  
“It’s no problem at all.” Gerard said warmly.  
“You two have a good night. Stay warm. Be safe.” Linda cooed, kissing Frank on the forehead.  
When Gerard slid out of the car and lifted his bag over his shoulder, it definitely felt like Frank had slid a few extra records in. He couldn’t help but smile at his un-boyfriend’s constant mischief.  
It had gotten much colder. Gerard buttoned his coat all the way up to the top and again, regretted forgetting his hat and gloves.  
  
It was when they were huddled together on the platform, waiting for the next train, that Frank started look at Gerard all guilty and apologetic again. They were no longer at risk of Frank’s mom overhearing, but they weren’t exactly alone either. Gerard glanced around the platform and saw a teen girl sitting on a nearby bench. She had headphones on, but if Frank wanted to have a messy, public conversation about their sex life, then he was going to have to be the one to initiate it, _not Gerard._  
Frank didn’t start apologizing, though. He just kept looking at Gerard with his sorry puppy eyes. It was torture. He hugged Frank close so that he wouldn’t have to look at it any longer.  
“I’m sorry I don’t know about the Dead Kennedys.” he mumbled against Frank’s hair.  
“I don’t give a shit.” Frank laughed. “You know about them now. That’s all that matters.”  
“Don’t think I didn’t notice the extra LPs you stuffed in my bag.” Gerard complained.  
“Sorry… I was just worried you hadn’t heard ‘Dear You’.” Frank chuckled.  
“Of course I’ve heard ‘Dear You’.” Gerard gasped.  
“You didn’t know about Dead Kennedys… so I guess I just assumed you’d never heard Jawbreaker.” Frank teased.  
“I’m unpunk, but I’m not that _unpunk._ ” Gerard countered.  
There was a sort of lull in their conversation then. Despite the nap and several cups of coffee Frank had made him, Gerard was still exhausted.  
He mouthed an _‘I love you’_ against Frank’s hair to try and get an idea of how it felt on his tongue. The idea of actually saying it made him want to puke. It was too scary to admit out loud. He wasn’t ready for that yet.  
Frank yawned loudly, almost comically, against his coat, freeing him from his anxious thoughts.  
And then suddenly the train was there. Gerard had been too distracted to even see it coming.  
  
The train was mostly empty so late on a weeknight. They took up 3 seats. One for Gerard and two for Frank. He curled up on the seats and rested his head in Gerard’s lap, passing out in minutes as the train pulled out of the station.  
Gerard stroked Frank’s hair and let his mind wander in it’s dizzying, anxious circles...  
If Frank was going to be staying with him, Gerard supposed there were some things they needed to discuss.  
There was the whole ‘love’ thing. Gerard already knew how poorly that was going to go.  
And then there was the whole ‘oh yeah, by the way, I’m a fucking werewolf’ thing.  
Gerard wasn’t sure which conversation was going to suck more. He just prayed Frank would still want to even fucking talk to him if he knew he’d charmed his way into the heart of an actual monster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> being in love is soooo unpunk.


	18. It Always Ends In Tears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> misleading chapter title. this is mostly fluff. - m

  
Gerard was dead on his feet by the time he and Frank made it back to his place. He cursed his old apartment building and it’s lack of an elevator. There were just _so many fucking stairs._ His entire body protested with every step. He would’ve taken his time getting up the stairs but he didn’t want Frank to have any reason to suspect anything was off.   
After helping Frank find a place to put his bags in the bedroom and halfheartedly emptying his own bag of the records Frank had snuck in, he collapsed on the couch. It felt so fucking good to sink into the cushions. He knew he was doomed the second he was settled.   
Frank poked his head into the room and said he had to make a few phone calls because something had come up at work. Gerard saw it as a perfect opportunity to flip on the TV and close his eyes for a few minutes...   
~   
  
“Gerard, can I borrow your keys?” Frank whispered.  
His voice was relatively close to Gerard’s ear. Gerard reached out to pull him closer. Frank made a small pained squeak as the back of Gerard’s hand connected with his face.  
Gerard opened his eyes to find Frank leaning over him. His skeleton-gloved hand was clutching at the half of his face Gerard had hit. He quickly realized he must’ve passed out on the couch.   
“Shit, I’m sorry.” he croaked.   
“It’s okay.” Frank laughed breathily. “My fault for waking you.”   
“Where’re you going?” Gerard yawned, eyeing the black scarf wound around his neck, with its complimenting black winter coat.   
“The market. I wanted to like, cook you dinner to thank you for letting me stay here but the only vegan things you have are an ancient bag of frozen peas and a few slices of stale bread.” Frank smirked. “And I guess like, if you count your spice rack…”   
“You don’t have to do that, Frank.” Gerard protested, “I had to pr-”   
“ _I want to.”_ Frank interrupted, “And besides I’m kinda hungry. Calling all these apartment brokers is exhausting. I need a break.”   
“Oh. Uh. Right. Okay. I’ll come with you then.” Gerard said, sitting up slowly. His head immediately started swimming. His shoulders still felt stiff.   
“No, no. Stay here and sleep.” Frank cooed, “Just tell me where your keys are.”   
“They’re in my jacket... by the door.” Gerard offered weakly, letting his head fall back against the couch cushions. In the back of his mind, he decided Frank fucking loved grocery shopping. Personally, he’d never set foot in a supermarket twice in one day... unless it was to follow Frank around. Then, _maybe._ But only then.   
“Cool…” Frank grinned.   
Instead of making a movement towards leaving he sat down on the floor in front of the couch so that his eyes were level with Gerard’s.   
“Gerard uh ...Can I ask you something? ...Like, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”   
Gerard didn’t like the sound of that at all.   
“Sure.” he mumbled anyway.   
“Well like... Mikey told me that you don’t drink. But like, you were drinking the first night we met? And like at that other party we threw for the label...” He said, cocking his head to the side, “I don’t mean to pry. I just kinda wanted to pick up some beer, but like, if that’s not _cool with you…_ ” he trailed off.  
“Oh.” Gerard mouthed. He could tell Frank was nervous by the number of times he inserted **‘like’** into his sentences.   
“I mean, yeah. It’s totally cool.” Gerard amended quickly, “I drink sometimes but it’s just that… me and alcohol don’t always _mix so good_. It’s gotten me in a lot of trouble before... But I don’t mind if you drink around me.”   
“Are you sure?” Frank pressed. “I don’t want to impose.”   
“You’re a fucking bartender, Frank.” Gerard laughed, “If it wasn’t cool with me I would’ve said something before. It’s totally fine if you… _It’s fine._ ”  
“Just, let me know if I ever do anything that’s like, not cool with you I guess?” Frank said.  
Gerard nodded in agreement.   
“Alright well… I’ll be back in a little while.” Frank said, rising to his feet and looking down at Gerard.  
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come?” Gerard asked.   
“I’m a big kid. I’ll be fine.” Frank rolled his eyes. “Go back to sleep.”   
With that, Frank got up and left the room. Gerard sort of wanted to kiss him goodbye, but he didn’t know how to say so. His brain was too sleep-logged and nervous. He listened to the telltale jingle as Frank pulled the keys out of Gerard’s coat pocket and let himself out of the apartment. The sound of him locking the door from the outside echoed softly through the quiet apartment.   
  
The reason Gerard didn’t drink, naturally, had everything to do with the lycanthropy. True, his alcoholism had been the sole reason he found himself in an alley with a rabid wolf all those years ago but that wasn’t even _the half of it._  
The first lunar cycle Gerard endured had gone... _better than it could have._ Gerard had gotten lucky and no one had gotten hurt. But the transitions that followed were _messy_ for awhile. He and Mikey did the best they could to manage the situation, given their circumstances.   
Gerard’s alcohol addiction had continued, even after he realized what the wolf bite had meant. **That** was rock bottom if Gerard ever knew it. When his body was going through the pre-transition symptoms, he would drink to dull the strange, uncomfortable sensations. And if a werewolf was dangerous, a _drunk werewolf_ was immeasurably more dangerous. It was a sort of silver lining that Gerard was more of a danger to himself than to others. With alcohol coursing through it’s veins, the wolf would fight to free itself from the basement with little to no regard for it’s own constitution.   
It went without saying that waking up with a hangover and broken ribs, covered in his own blood, was not something Gerard had any interest in re-living.   
He still drank on occasion, but it was more of a social function. Most of the people looking to hook up in the city hung out at bars. His lifestyle had required mild alcohol consumption.  
  
Having been reminded of his miserable past, Gerard found he couldn’t will himself to sleep again. He felt fucking anxious about getting caught up in his web of lies. It wouldn’t kill him, probably, but he couldn’t stop the sinking feeling that it would all blow up in his face. Frank would find out what he was and desert him. That was the only outcome he could picture in his mind. He groggily watched the TV, teasing the notion of getting up and making coffee.   
He hadn’t moved by the time Frank got back from the market. He listened quietly as Frank set the grocery bags down on the counter in the kitchen. He thought he could make out the sound of a beer cracking open. For whatever reason, it made him smile.   
His mind was somehow put at ease with Frank back in the apartment and he found himself drifting off to sleep to the sound of Frank clanging pots and pans.   
~  
  
When Gerard opened his eyes again, he had to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. Frank was sitting on the floor in front of the TV, bent over a pile crumpled pages with messy handwriting on them. He’d taken his pants off at some point. One hand was doodling on a blank notebook page, the other was pressing his cellphone to his ear. There were a few beer cans strewn around him, all dented in, which Gerard assumed to mean that they were empty.   
  
“Vicky, just shut up for one second,” Frank sighed, “All I’m saying is that I think you should stop fucking their drummer.” He ran a hand through his hair and rolled his eyes as he listened to the person on the other end. Gerard decided Vicky was in one of the bands Frank managed.   
Gerard had never seen Frank while he was working before.   
They’d never talked about Frank’s job. It was Gerard’s fault. He’d never asked. They were usually occupied with _other things_ and Gerard already sort of knew what working at the label was like through Mikey. Now that he realized this, he wondered dreamily what else he hadn’t asked about.   
“You should _especially_ stop fucking him if you love him.” Frank groaned, “You know what? You don’t have to take the _perfectly rational_ advice being handed to you by someone who has nothing to gain from this situation…”   
Frank paused to scribble something on the notepad in front of him.   
“ _I know._ I knowhow good his band is. **_I_** booked them.” Frank said, “But that’s not even-”  
He bit his lip as Vicky spoke, crossing out a line he had written. He glanced up at Gerard and looked surprised to find him awake.   
“Look, Vic, I gotta go. Just, promise me you’ll think about what I said. You’re too good for him.” Frank said warmly, “And I’ll e-mail you the dates as soon as I’m in the office tomorrow morning… Uh-huh. Later.”   
Frank pulled the phone away from his ear and set it on top of his notebook with a deep sigh.   
“Hi.” Frank said. A blush creeped up on his cheeks. “Sorry if I woke you up…”   
“‘S Fine.” Gerard slurred groggily, closing his eyes and nuzzling against the couch cushions.   
Frank pulled himself off the floor and crossed the carpet. He perched on the edge of the couch beside Gerard.   
“Do you always sleep so much?” Frank asked. “You basically slept all day. Are you getting sick or something?”   
“Sleeping is nice. You should try it.” Gerard yawned. He readjusted himself on the cushions, making a Frank-sized amount of space beside him.   
Frank wordlessly curled up in the space beside Gerard and placed a hand over Gerard’s forehead.   
“You feel kinda warm... but you always feel kinda warm.” Frank commented. He rested his head on Gerard’s chest and let out a long, slow breath.   
As always, it still confused Gerard that they were able to fit so comfortably on the couch. Frank’s welcome warmth at his side was too relaxing. He was almost ready to drift back off to sleep but he didn’t want to be rude to his new house guest.  
“Is giving romantic advice in your underwear a _normal_ part of your job?” Gerard asked, trying to keep himself awake.  
“Is wh-?” Frank faltered, stifling a laugh, “Oh. No. I have this tendency to like... take my clothes off when I’m really stressed out.”   
“So you’re usually stressed out when we hang out then, huh?” Gerard smirked.  
“No, I uh…” Frank laughed. “It’s not the _only_ reason I take my clothes off.”   
“But if I want you to take your clothes off, all I’d have to do is stress you out?” Gerard asked.   
“No. All you have to do is ask...” Frank said softly. “You can always be honest with me, yknow?”   
There was a seriousness to his tone. He wasn’t just talking about getting naked, Gerard sensed.   
“So what about the advice part then?” Gerard asked, changing the subject.   
“Huh?” Frank hummed.   
“With work, I mean? Is giving romantic advice a regular thing for you?” Gerard clarified.  
“It does kind of happen a lot, I guess?” Frank said fondly, “I just called her to tell her the label had pinned on a few extra tour dates and she broke down crying about this fucking drummer guy...”  
“Oh God, Mikey dated a drummer like, a year or so ago, I remember. Drummers are always assholes. It always ends in tears.” Gerard commiserated.   
“They totally are!” Frank agreed, “And like, I tried to tell her that.”  
“There’s only so much you can do.” Gerard said, “Especially if the drummer’s hot...”  
“He is, unfortunately.” Frank sighed.   
“Aw, she’s doomed then. But it’s cool that you’re there for her though, just to like, listen or whatever.” Gerard mused. “That’s probably all she really needs right now.”   
“I don’t know why these kids always come to me looking for advice though.” Frank huffed. “I don’t know the first thing about love.”  
“You sound like you do...” Gerard said, finding it suddenly harder to swallow, “Or like, on the phone you did, I mean.”   
“Well, I don’t.” Frank sighed. “But it’s good I sound like I know what I’m talking about.”  
There was an awkward pause then. The TV was still on quietly and it served as the only sound in the room other than their quiet breathing.   
Suddenly Frank’s lips were on his and it caught him off guard. He was too stunned to kiss back at first. He couldn’t remember the last time the simple act of kissing had taken him by surprise. Then again, Frank was always taking him by surprise.  
When Gerard really thought about it, he couldn’t see any reason why Frank would like him. Frank worked in the music industry. He had connections. Even if he knew the dangers of getting romantically involved with drummers, drummers were still an option for him. Gerard had no idea why Frank would waste his time kissing a shaggy, untrustworthy artist guy with a dead-end job and a lifetime supply of lycanthropy and subsidiary lies.  
Gerard also wasn’t sure when he’d gotten so fucking **soft.** He’d never gotten so _contemplative_ while making out before. It seemed almost rude to be wondering why there was a hot guy on his lap working at the button on his jeans instead of just enjoying it.   
Frank growled against Gerard’s lips, silencing all of Gerard’s further thoughts on the matter. He grabbed Frank’s hips and pulled him closer. The friction had him growling back at Frank. He was endlessly thankful for how human the growl sounded.   
Frank broke his lips off for just a moment to pull his shirt over his head, then leaned forward again and sunk his teeth into Gerard’s lower lip and pulled back on it gently. Gerard would never tell Frank just how crazy it made him, because he never wanted Frank to know what kind of power it had over him. His body was supposed to be spent of all wolfish impulses and yet he was almost embarrassed by how turned on he was. He palmed at Frank’s hard-on through his boxers. Frank shoved his tongue in Gerard’s mouth and bucked his hips against Gerard’s.   
They kissed heatedly and slid against each other until it was crazy-making. Frank tried to work at the waist of Gerard’s jeans, slowly inching them down. He wasn’t making much progress given the position they were in.   
“Taking your fucking pants off.” Frank gritted out, sliding off of Gerard and helping him pull them off.   
Gerard reached for Frank to pull him back on top but Frank had other plans. He nudged his way in between Gerard’s legs and ran his tongue up the underside of his cock. The way he slid it into his mouth was hotter than anything Gerard had ever seen in his life. He closed his eyes and rolled his tongue around the tip at an agonizingly slow and attentive pace.   
Gerard let his head fall back against the cushions and tried to keep his hands pinned down at his sides. He had very little self control with the way Frank was sucking him down. His hands ended up tangling in Frank’s hair anyways.   
He dared a look down at Frank. The way Frank looked back had to be illegal in several US states. It was too perfect, too hot.   
He had been so beside himself, Gerard hadn’t noticed the twitch of muscle in Frank’s shoulder at first. Frank moaned around his cock and lost his perfect, illegal rhythm just a little. Gerard realized it was all because Frank was fucking _touching himself._  
In all of Gerard’s fantasies, he’d never pictured Frank getting himself off. He made a note to with the rest of his mental capacity, to pencil in an evening of just watching Frank please himself. It was so dirty, so intimate.   
Gerard had always taken pride in his sexual stamina. When he wasn’t holding off for long periods of time, he was going over and over again. Frank was his undoing in that way. He always had Gerard losing control sooner than he wanted to lose it. The guy could just fucking get Gerard off. Before he even had all of his clothes off, even.   
He swallowed Gerard’s load without hesitation, making Gerard’s hips twitch as he pulled his mouth off of Gerard’s over-sensitive member.  
Frank held up his hand and jokingly grimaced at the come sliding down his hand. Gerard grabbed Frank by the wrist and pulled him close, licking the come off his hand finger by finger.   
He was really ready to go to sleep after that, especially with Frank curled up sweaty and warm and mostly naked beside him. Frank’s arm was draped over his middle.   
In the quiet calm, Gerard’s stomach growled loudly. He hadn’t eaten much all day, having been too distracted by Frank.   
‘Hungry?” Frank asked softly.   
“I guess there’s no use denying it.” Gerard mumbled. He lifted himself off the couch enough to pull his sweaty t-shirt off. “But I’m sort of on an all cum diet.”   
“That’s disgusting.” Frank laughed. “Come on, you really don’t wanna try the food I made?”   
“The kitchen is so far away.” Gerard whined. “I don’t want to get up.”   
Frank made a motion to get up and Gerard held him down.   
“Just… 5 more minutes.” Gerard begged, wrapping his arms around Frank and pressing kisses all over his shoulder.   
It was more like another hour that they laid there, kissing and talking. Eventually Frank was tired of listening to Gerard’s empty stomach and so they got up and ate a very naked, very cold dinner right out of the pot on the stove. Neither of them wanted to do the dishes. Gerard was so distracted by Frank that he didn’t even notice the lack of animal products in the dish.   
After dinner they curled up in Gerard’s bed. The sheets were cool and so they clung to each other for warmth. Frank had put on one of Gerard’s sweatshirts and Gerard wanted to crawl inside of it with him. The shivered against each other until the blankets had absorbed enough of Gerard’s body heat to keep them both warm properly.   
“Frank, do you want help looking for apartments tomorrow?” Gerard asked softly.   
“Nah.” Frank mumbled, “I actually have an appointment to go look at a place tomorrow.”  
“I’ll come with you.” Gerard pressed.   
“You don’t have to do that, Gee. You’re already doing enough for me.” Frank objected.   
“I want to come, Frank.” Gerard insisted, “I mean, if it’s okay with you.”   
“It’s okay. I just… I don’t want to take up all your time.” Frank whispered.   
“You shouldn’t have to do all this alone.” Gerard whispered against his neck, placing a few kisses to Frank’s skin after.   
“Okay.” Frank agreed.   
“Gerard?” Frank whispered into the dark a few minutes later.   
Gerard hummed lazily in response.   
“I’m really sorry about what I said this afternoon. About… yknow…” Frank trailed off.   
“I told you not to apologize for that.” Gerard said, hugging Frank tighter.   
“I know. I still feel bad about it though.” Frank said.   
“Don’t. Please, Frank.” Gerard whispered.   
“I’m just… so fucking insensitive.” Frank continued.   
“Shut up.” Gerard said fondly, “Frank, the fact that you trust me that much.... means a lot to me. You have no idea.”   
Frank was quiet for so long, Gerard thought he might’ve fallen asleep.   
  
“I do trust you.” Frank said eventually.   
“I trust you, too.” Gerard agreed.


	19. Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the lack of updating. i may have relocated to a city that's much more punk than the previous city i lived in - which was deeply un-punk.
> 
> on march 22nd, or like, that day we don't need to talk about, i drove a fucking moving truck through most of the state of new jersey. what a cruel reminder? i ended up at some truck stop on the NJ turnpike. i got coffee and then proceeded to get all contemplative and sad in the beautiful NJ twilight.
> 
> comment!! tell me how y'all spent the.... anniversary

The following morning, Frank smacked at Gerard’s alarm clock at some ungodly hour, drowsily mumbling something about the evils of the music industry. The sun hadn’t even considered rising when he’d quietly slipped out of the bed. Gerard rolled over and sprawled out, stretching his aching muscles and drifting back to sleep.   
Frank might’ve snuck back into the room to peck him on the lips and whisper a soft goodbye, but it was also completely possible Gerard had only selfishly dreamed it.  
He woke up again a few hours later with just enough time to slip into some clothes and brush his teeth before racing off to his shift at the art store.  
Seeing Frank on the phone with one of his clients the night before had left Gerard with an itch in his mind. It’d started when he realized he never had to take his work home with him like Frank did. Unless he counted the incredible employee discount on art supplies...   
Gerard had been so thrilled when the store had offered him a job but now that he thought about it, it was just glorified dead-end retail work. It paid most of the bills, Gerard supposed. What it didn’t cover, he covered with the ridiculous amount of money his grandmother had left when she died. As happy as he’d been, he’d known all along that being a sales clerk at an art supply store was hardly a dream job. It hardly scratched this new itch.   
There were things he loved about it, of course. He loved his crazy, old boss. He loved his coworker, Ray, the crazy hair-metal dude who was just finishing college. He loved wandering the aisles and running his hands over the tubes of paint. He loved creating sample sheets and mock-ups whenever his boss ordered a new kind of paint or ink.  
Unfortunately, his job left him sort of frozen in place. He’d never been bothered by it before but the reality was that the housing market had changed a lot since Gerard last moved. New York was always up and coming. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to afford an apartment in the city if he ever decided to move again.   
Gerard didn’t need to move. It wasn’t that. He liked his apartment. It was just that he had no fucking clue what he was supposed to do if he wanted to, say, _move in with a boyfriend or something._ His current place was big enough to accommodate a boyfriend. He’d originally moved in with Mikey when Mikey had been in college still. The place had suited the two of them just fine. When Mikey graduated and moved out, Gerard had turned his room into an art studio. Gerard could easily make adjustments to the place to suit a second person again.  
It was too soon for him to be thinking about Frank like that. Not that he was thinking about Frank like that, of course. In Gerard’s mind, it was all hypotheticals… but those hypotheticals left him unsatisfied in some way he couldn’t really explain. He spent his train ride to work wondering why he’d never wanted more for himself...   
  
Halfway through Gerard’s shift Frank had texted him the address of his prospective apartment as well as the time they were supposed to be there. The message ended with a sad face.  
  
: (   
  
Naturally, Gerard spent the rest of his afternoon over-analyzing what the fuck a sad face meant in such a context. Was Frank sad that Gerard was coming or just sad that he had to go at all?   
Gerard left work 3 minutes early and got on a train headed downtown to meet Frank.   
  
Once he stepped out of the subway station, he couldn’t stop himself from analyzing the surrounding neighborhood as if he was the one who would eventually have to live there.  
Frank’s potential apartment was half a block from a cute corner store and a Mexican restaurant. The tree-lined block was made up of cute row houses that had all been turned into apartment buildings. On the opposite side of the street was a vintage clothing store and beside that... was a coffee house. He was just the smallest bit jealous that Frank could practically throw rocks at a coffee house from the window of his potential apartment.  
He could see Frank up ahead, or, part of Frank, he presumed. He saw a pair of fidgeting, denim-clad legs that had to belong to Frank - as if the smoke curling up above wasn’t already a dead giveaway. Gerard didn’t really need to rely on his visual senses. He’d detected Frank’s scent the moment he’d rounded the corner. It was too early in the month for him to be acting like a bloodthirsty hunter, but Gerard found himself quickening his pace. He abruptly found himself face to face with a very cold, very bored, very frustrated-looking version of the same person who’d slipped out of his bed that morning.  
Frank lifted himself off the steps when he saw Gerard.  
“Hey.” he said shortly, puffing hard on the end of his cigarette.  
“Hey.” Gerard echoed in a much more polite tone.  
Frank flicked his cigarette into the gutter and quickly pulled out another. He’d probably been chain-smoking the entire time he’d been waiting there, Gerard guessed. He wordlessly copied Frank’s bad habit and lit a cigarette of his own.  
“I want this to be over.” Frank grumbled, exhaling smoke, “I hate dealing with apartment brokers.”  
“They’re not all bad.” Gerard offered conversationally. He had no idea what apartment brokers were like but he didn’t know what to do about how tense Frank seemed.  
“Oh yes they are.” Frank laughed darkly, “I helped my friend Jamia find a place not too long ago. It was hell. This one guy tried to hit on her, even after showing up 45 minutes late. They’re never on time and they’re always assholes…”  
Gerard couldn’t help but notice that the hand Frank was holding his cigarette with was shaking. Gerard’s senses weren’t acute enough to pick up on specific emotions other than the stench of fear, but it was as if Frank was giving off a negative scent. Anxiety maybe? Gerard had never picked up on it before, but it was totally possible, he supposed.   
“Frank, are you okay?” Gerard asked softly.  
“I’m just in a bad mood.” Frank sighed.  
Gerard would’ve asked why, but he already knew the answer. He would’ve been in a bad mood too. Instead of pushing a conversation he knew the moody punk didn’t want to have he closed the space between them and pulled Frank in for a hug. It was something of a risk. There was a chance it would only piss Frank off even more.   
Gerard’s apprehensions were, apparently, entirely in his head because Frank melted against him, burying his face in Gerard’s black wool coat and taking a long slow breath.  
“I just fucking hate having to rely on other people.” Frank mumbled dejectedly. “Not because the people in my life are unreliable, I just… I prefer being independent, y’know?”  
“Well… Just don’t look at it as dependency. It’s more like a trade, really, if you think about it. ‘Cause you’d do the same for your friends if they were in your position...” Gerard pointed out, running his hand through Frank’s hair in an attempt to soothe him.  
“We’re not friends.” Frank reminded sarcastically with a small chuckle.  
Gerard bit his lip and smiled weakly in agreement, even though Frank couldn’t see it. It felt a little like Frank had stabbed a knife into his chest and then twisted the blade a little to add some personal finesse. He was speechless; Paralyzed by the idea that he could possibly be so madly in love with someone who wouldn’t even acknowledge him as a friend.  
“Do you recognize that coffee house across the street?” Frank asked, interrupting Gerard’s silent, agonizing train of thought. He burrowed one of his hands into Gerard’s coat to leach off of his warmth.   
“Uh… should I?” Gerard asked, glancing at the place across the street.   
It looked familiar in a vague sort of way. They all looked like that though, really, if Gerard really thought about it...  
“Maybe? I don’t know.” Frank said softly.  
“Why?” Gerard asked, engulfing Frank in the fabric of the front of his coat.   
“We sort of… were on a date for about 30 seconds there once. I mean, if you could call it that.” He twisted his face to puff on his cigarette but kept himself pressed tightly against Gerard.  
“No shit.” Gerard breathed.  
He was supposed to remember that kind of thing. He figured Frank must’ve had some kind of point system developed to keep score of just how bad of a boyfriend Gerard would be. Gerard was probably in the fucking _bad boyfriend hall of fame_ at this point.   
“To be fair they changed the paint job on the outside…” Frank offered, “I didn’t recognize it at first either. That shade of green is so... _hideous…”_  
“I’m sorry but I…” Gerard whispered, pulling away enough to try and get Frank to look at him.  
“You don’t have to be sorry, Gerard.” Frank interrupted, looking up at Gerard, “It’s fine. It doesn’t matter.”  
He didn’t look the least bit upset, which only served to confuse Gerard even more.  
“If you’d just let me finish, I was gonna say that I don’t remember what the fucking place looked like because I was too busy looking at you…” Gerard said, sounding a little more cross than he wanted to. Frank’s mood had maybe rubbed off on him a little.   
He meant it though. It was hard to remember or even _fucking care_ where he was when he was with Frank. They could’ve been sipping lattes handcrafted by ancient aliens while sitting at a table by the window on the fucking moon and Gerard would still be more interested in Frank.  
Frank bit his lip as he stared back at Gerard.  
Gerard had three small words on the tip of his fucking tongue. It was so easy. It was almost too fucking easy to just say them and mean them completely.  
  
 **“Excuse me, are either of you Frank…. Eee-Are-Oh?** ” someone said, startling the both of them. They both took a step away from one another, awkwardly trying to make it look like they hadn’t just been in the middle of a moment.   
“It’s pronounced, _‘Eye Air Oh.’_ ” Gerard corrected crossly, turning to look at the hotshot who had just interrupted him. The guy had rockstar hair and… sunglasses on, despite the fact that it was cloudy, cold, and the middle of February. Gerard instantly hated him.  
“That’s me. Hi! I’m Frank.” Frank said, reaching out to shake the guy’s hand.  
“Hi Frank, nice to finally meet you. I’m Adam.” hotshot said. He let go of Frank’s hand and pulled his shades off, shaking out his long, wavy hair. He was good looking, but totally not Gerard’s type.   
“…And you are?” Adam asked, turning to Gerard and reaching out to shake his hand.  
“Gerard.” Gerard offered coldly, taking the guy’s hand and shaking it weakly.  
“Nice to meet you.” Adam said, squeezing Gerard’s hand a little harder than was probably necessary.  
“Alright so, let’s get down to business.” Adam said, pulling out a set of keys and climbing the stairs the building entrance. Frank followed behind him with Gerard in tow.   
“I think you’re really gonna like this place, Frank.” Adam continued, unlocking the door and holding it open for Frank and Gerard, “The unit has been really well-maintained… Original mouldings, original tile-work… parquet flooring…”   
Gerard tuned out the details, following closely behind Frank as they climbed the stairs to the 2nd floor.  
“So Frank, what do you do?” Adam asked conversationally.  
“I’m in the music industry.” Frank offered.  
“Music, huh? What instrument do you play?” Adam asked, feigning interest.   
“Guitar, mostly.” Frank said, “But I’m not in a band. I’m a tour manager.”  
“Oh cool!” Adam said, pulling out his keys again and fiddling with the lock in front of one of the apartments, “I play guitar too.”  
Adam swung the door open and flicked the lights on.  
“I’ll let you two look around while I arrange the paperwork.” Adam said, digging around in his shoulder bag.  
Gerard followed closely behind Frank, taking in the apartment as if it would someday be his own. He hated himself for the way he was cataloging the details but he couldn’t stop himself.  
They wandered down the hallway and peered into a small kitchen. Frank said nothing as he blinked at the original tiling.   
Frank ran his fingers along the wall as he made his way to room at the end of the hallway.  
Gerard followed Frank into the empty bedroom. Frank crossed the room and looked out the window. Gerard watched Frank’s silhouette as he stared out at the view, heaving a deep sigh and leaning against the windowsill.  
“What do you think, Frankie? Do you like it?” Gerard asked, crossing the room and wrapping his arms around Frank to hug him from behind.  
“I don’t know. It’s smaller than my last place.” Frank sighed. “The view is nice, I guess?”  
The window looked out over a small tree-filled courtyard with a few benches and an overflowing ashtray. Gerard could see beyond the rooftop. The varying levels of buildings on other blocks stretched on and on. Frank would be able to see a lot of the neighborhood from his bed.  
“Well,” Gerard said softly, “If you don’t like it this place then there’s-“  
“No. It’s not that.” Frank interrupted, “I mean, I could be happy anywhere really. I’m just… I don’t know.”  
“If you’d ever let me finish…” Gerard bickered fondly, hugging Frank tighter.  
“Oh, I always let you finish.” Frank leered softly, pulling away from Gerard. “C’mon. Let’s see if the bath tub is easy to kill ourselves in. It’s on my mental checklist of things to avoid...”  
  
To Frank’s extreme delight, the bathroom did not have a bathtub at all. Instead there was just a shower stall. Gerard thought the bathroom was too small, but he didn’t say it out loud. He was there for moral support above anything else.  
“There’s no bath tub at all...” Frank commented evenly as he stood inside the shower running his fingers over the tiles,  
“If you really miss it you can always come over and take baths at my place.” Gerard flirted.  
“Oh really?” Frank asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked over at Gerard.  
“Of course. It would be my pleasure.” Gerard nodded, leaning against the sink. He glanced over and checked himself out in the mirror.  
“So what do you guys think?” Adam asked, startling the shit out of Gerard for the second time in twenty minutes, “Does it get the boyfriend seal of approval?”  
“Oh, he’s not my-“ Frank quickly corrected, laughing nervously, “Gerard’s just a friend… We’re just… **_friends._** ”  
He made eye contact with Gerard as he said it. A blush crept over his cheeks as his lip twitched up in a private smirk. Gerard’s breath caught in his fucking throat at the way Frank was looking at him.   
“Oh, uh, okay, whatever. Sorry.” Adam stuttered, “It was rude of me to assume...”   
The three men stared between each other awkwardly for a moment. Either Frank or Adam was going to have to say something because Gerard was a little busy trying to figure out how to get his lungs to work again.   
“Anyway, so what do you guys think of the place?” Adam asked, saving the fucking day.   
“I like it alright.” Frank shrugged.  
“Great!” Adam said, “There’s a little bit of preliminary paperwork I gonna need you to fill out if you’re interested. Wanna get started?”  
“Sure. Couldn’t hurt.” Frank nodded, stepping out of the shower and following Adam out of the bathroom.  
Gerard stayed in the bathroom, leaning against the sink, completely stunned. Frank had just admitted to their friendship to a complete stranger. He felt so pathetic for seeing it as a victory, but he couldn’t help the way it made his heart flutter. He listened to Frank laugh his fake, polite laugh as Adam explained the different pieces of paperwork in the other room.  
By the time they were done, Gerard’s breathing had mostly returned to normal. He still felt fluttery as he followed Frank and Adam down the stairs and out of the apartment building.   
“I’ll run your paperwork and probably call you… some time tomorrow?” Adam said, scrolling through his phone.   
“Great.” Frank replied wearily.Adam had tossed them a professional smile, shook Frank’s hand, shook Gerard’s hand, and then turned on his heels and left.   
  
And just like that, they were alone, across from the cursed coffee house Gerard was still torturing himself over.   
“So, um, Gerard…” Frank started.   
“Frank...” Gerard echoed. Before he could stop himself he was pulling Frank in and kissing him hard. Frank kissed back, wrapping his arms around Gerard’s neck and pressing closer. It felt painfully right. Gerard could feel the twang at the back of his throat, the instinctual desperate need for Frank. He wanted to take Frank back into the apartment building and fuck him on the stupid parquet floors.   
“What was that for?” Frank asked, pulling his lips away and resting his forehead against Gerard’s.   
“You said we were friends.” Gerard offered, “I thought we weren’t friends?”   
“Well… yknow.” Frank uttered quickly, cheeks flushing a bright pink, “I couldn’t exactly explain….”   
“Do you wanna get coffee with me?” Gerard asked suddenly.   
“Now?” Frank squeaked.   
“Yeah. Right now.” Gerard nodded, “I want a do-over. If you let me... I can fix our first date.”   
“Gerard.” Frank breathed, furrowing his brow and giving Gerard an incredulous look.   
“Please, Frank.” Gerard begged, “I just want to make things right.”   
“I can’t...” Frank sighed. “It’s Thursday. I have to be at the bar in 30 minutes.”   
“The bar?” Gerard asked. His brain didn’t want to process it as rejection but his heart was already sinking in rejection.   
“I’m a bartender, _remember?”_ Frank laughed nervously.   
“Oh, right.” Gerard nodded pulling away and staring at the ground. He could feel himself blushing and he absolutely hated the idea that his emotions were all over his fucking face.   
“But maybe some other time,” Frank said, ducking back into Gerard’s line of sight, “When things aren’t so crazy, we could… y’know...”   
“Some other time.” Gerard nodded, offering Frank a small, weak smile.   
Frank pulled Gerard’s arm and lead them in the direction of the subway station. Gerard allowed himself to be pulled along in mopey silence. He didn’t want to act like such a jerk but he suddenly felt like shit.   
Frank didn’t say anything about Gerard’s sudden change in mood. He just pecked him on the cheek and promised he’d call Gerard when he was off work. Gerard watched him cross the street to get on the subway platform for the trains headed further downtown. Gerard descended the set of steps leading uptown, back to his apartment. He could see Frank across the platform for a few seconds before his train came. Frank offered him a tiny wave before the train whizzed past in between them.   
  
Once Gerard got home he found himself pacing around his empty apartment, trying to sift through his feelings. Frank hadn’t technically been opposed to the idea of them going on a date, and that had to count for something.   
It was nerve-wracking to think about actually taking Frank on a date and getting everything right. What if he forgot something and pissed Frank off? What if Frank watched him eating something non-vegan and got grossed out? What if they went on a date too close to the moon and Frank judged him for not being able to keep his hands to himself?   
There were too many ‘what if’s, too many opportunities for Gerard to ruin everything.   
He let out a heavy, defeated sigh, put on a record and retired to his drawing table. He figured he might as well take advantage of the time he had away from Frank to work on some sketches. He quickly found himself lost in inking out a few pages of sabotaged dates.   
A two-headed cat looked incredibly bored as a ghost talked about itself too much.   
A girl with her all her fingers cut off struggled to hold her date’s hand.   
A wolf got too handsy with it’s cute, punkish date in a movie theatre…   
That one was too real. Gerard tore the page out of his sketchbook and immediately carried it into the kitchen. He pulled out a cigarette and pursed it between his lips, lighting the piece of paper on fire and bringing the flame to the end of his cigarette. He inhaled the nicotine deeply as he watched the paper uncrumple in flames in his sink. Once the paper was burned completely, he turned on the tap and washed the ashes down the sink.   
After finishing his cigarette, Gerard ended up in the shower and then on the couch with cartoon reruns and a bowl of popcorn.   
His hair was still damp when he heard the intercom buzz. He glanced over at the clock. It was almost 3 in the morning so it was likely Frank, even though he hadn’t called.   
Gerard lifted himself off the couch and floated over the intercom, pressing the ‘door’ button to let Frank into the building. He checked to make sure the door was unlocked and leaned against the wall, waiting by the door for his temporary houseguest to make his way up all those stairs.   
Eventually he heard Frank’s footsteps in the hallway and pulled the door open for him.   
“Sorry I didn’t call.” Frank huffed, as he wandered past Gerard into the apartment. “And I’m sorry it’s so late… And just… Thanks for waiting up.”   
“It’s no problem. I would’ve been up anyways.” Gerard shrugged, closing the door and sliding the deadbolt into place, “How was work?”   
“Fine.” Frank sighed, slipping out of his coat and hanging it on a hook by the door, “I don’t know what the fuck was up with my customers tonight. Had to kick a few people out and then… I got phone numbers from like four different people. Even this one chick… I explained I didn’t swing that way but… And then I had to break up a fight.”   
“You do look exceptionally good today.” Gerard offered encouragingly, taking in Frank’s disheveled appearance. He needed a shave and he had dark rings under his eyes. He looked pretty to Gerard, even when he was partied out and stressed and exhausted.   
“Shut up.” Frank commanded fondly, rolling his eyes.  
“I would’ve given you my number…” Gerard trailed off.   
“If memory serves… You would’ve done more than that.” Frank smirked, unzipping his sweatshirt and kicking off his shoes.  
“I mean, I wouldn’t- You’re just-” Gerard stammered, “I didn’t realize you got phone numbers so often. Though I guess it makes sense.”   
_“What?_ Are you jealous?” Frank asked, raising an eyebrow.   
“Not jealous, just… curious, I guess?” Gerard offered, staring down at the floor and feeling himself blush.   
“I usually throw them away at the end of the night.” Frank explained, closing the distance between him and Gerard. They were less than a foot apart and Gerard could feel every fucking inch. He didn’t understand why the possibility of getting close to Frank made him buzz under his skin, even after all the time they’d spent alone together.   
“Oh.” Gerard breathed, not trusting his brain to form rational, subject-changing words.  
He closed his eyes as Frank wrapped his arms around Gerard’s neck. His breath smelled like cigarettes and alcohol, delicately masking all the chemical aspects that made him irresistible to Gerard.   
“Is it fucked up that the thought of you getting jealous over something like that turns me on?” Frank asked softly.   
“Um, well,” Gerard answered, “ _maybe,_ but-”   
Frank cut him off by pressing his lips against Gerard’s. He supposed he should’ve seen it coming, but he was thrown off somehow. It was like his brain wasn’t on board with his body, which apparently had no problem reciprocating Frank’s apparent interests in making out. He thoughtlessly walked Frank back towards the bedroom, pulling him closer when he nearly stumbled backwards over the threshold. Gerard could taste the whiskey on his tongue. He wasn’t sure if it was because Frank had consumed a lot of it or if his supernatural attributes just increased his ability to detect the sweet liquor. He decided it was a little bit of both.   
They crash-landed onto the bed in a tangled mess of kissing and clothes and limbs. Gerard wasn’t sure how Frank ended up on top of him, but he couldn’t complain, especially given the way Frank was grinding their hips together. He was so lost in the feeling of Frank’s lips all over him in the dark, that he almost forgot to bite his tongue against the cursed L-word trying to fight it’s way out of his mouth.


	20. : (

By now Gerard had figured out that in Frank’s vocabulary, when he said he’d be back ‘ _later than usual,_ ’ he meant _‘after midnight.’_  
Waiting up for Frank a few nights in a row didn’t really bother him. He was a creature of the night as it was. Mostly he just felt bad that Frank had to work so much on top of everything he was dealing with.  
When Frank eventually showed up at Gerard’s door around twelve thirty, he looked like death warmed over. His face was pale and gaunt. The dark circles under his eyes looked worse than the circles Gerard found under his own eyes after three or four nights of transitioning into a fucking werewolf.  
“Hey.” Gerard offered, closing the door behind Frank and sliding the locks into place.  
“Hey.” Frank mumbled back, slumping his shoulders and dropping his bag in the middle of the hallway.  
“Are you okay?” Gerard asked.  
“Uh.. yeah. I just… I just… _Yeah._ ” Frank stammered, turning to look at Gerard and frowning. He let out a deep, stressed sigh and shrugged at Gerard helplessly.  
“Tired, huh? Are you hungry?” Gerard asked, “When was the last time you ate something?”  
“I don’t remember.” Frank yawned. “But I’m too tired to eat anything now… I think I’ll just crash out if that’s cool with you? Thanks for waiting up for me. Sorry I’m such a terrible house-guest.”  
“You should eat _something,_ Frank.” Gerard tutted, ignoring Frank’s self-loathing commentary, “I’ll make us something... you should just go lay down.”  
Frank offered Gerard a small, lopsided smile of appreciation and floated off into the living room.  
Gerard was feeling smug over having figured out that sliced avocado on toast with a pinch of salt was one of Frank’s favorite snacks. Okay, so what if Mikey had been the one to feed him this information when they’d been on the phone earlier in the day? Gerard had still been the one to go to the store and have to ask an employee in the produce department how to tell which avocadoes were ripe. He’d still been the one to spend almost fifteen minutes in the bread aisle, mumbling to himself over which breads were vegan.  
He dipped into the kitchen and popped two slices of bread into the toaster and got to work slicing up an avocado. It was sad, really, that he was in his late 20s and had drawn avocados more than he had purchased them. Buying produce was one of the many grown-up things that had been sort of, swept under the rug after he’d been bitten. It hadn’t been an issue before. It wasn’t like Gerard made a habit of falling for vegans.  
Frank wandered into the kitchen silently like an exhausted little ghost. Gerard’s knife nearly slipped when he heard the sink turn on beside him. He turned to find Frank standing beside him, filling up a glass of water. In the past, Gerard had been able to tell when Frank walked into a room purely by smell, but now that he was in Gerard’s apartment almost as much as Gerard was the entire place smelled like Frank.  
Gerard wasn’t used to people being able to sneak up on him. Mikey was the only one who knew about Gerard’s ability to tell who was in a room based solely on smell. The younger Way also knew that Gerard was too used to his scent to detect his proximity, which he’d definitely taken advantage of before.  
Frank leaned against the counter, sipping his glass of water in silence and watching Gerard as he worked.  
“Did you hear back on that apartment we looked at yesterday?” Gerard asked.  
“Oh. Uh. Right. _About that.”_ Frank mumbled.  
Gerard set down the knife and turned to look at Frank. He had the biggest frown plastered across his face. He sort of looked like he was about to cry. _**No.**_ He was actually about to cry.  
He set his glass of water down and threw himself at Gerard, heaving a deep, strangled sob. Gerard awkwardly wrapped his arms around the smaller, shaking man, as he moaned into Gerard’s shirt.  
“Frank, uh…” Gerard started, not sure what the fuck he was even supposed to do.  
“I didn’t… get the place… uh…” Frank mumbled.  
“It’s not that big of a deal.” Gerard cooed, trying his best to sound comforting. He stroked a hand through Frank’s hair. He totally heard the toast pop up and was torn between getting it and holding onto Frank.  
“In case you haven’t noticed…” Frank sniffled, “I don’t have a place to live…”  
He made this tiny, pathetic sound in the back of his throat as he tried to fight back another sob. It was the cutest fucking sound Gerard had ever heard. He was glad Frank’s face was buried in his shirt so that he couldn’t see the grin on Gerard’s face.  
“Well, Frank… Listen, uh, I know being displaced like this sucks but, just, remember you have places you can go, yeah? It’s fine for you to stay here as long as you want. I love…” Gerard paused, “Love… having you around.” He finished, gracefully.  
“I know but…” Frank breathed, letting out more small, sad sounds.  
“Here, come with me…” Gerard said, trying to steer Frank out of the kitchen.  
Frank continued making his little hurt noises as he followed Gerard down the hallway towards his bedroom. Gerard slid Frank’s cardigan off and ushered him into the bed, all the while trying to think of something comforting to say. No words were coming to him. What could he possibly say to a guy who’d lost his apartment in such a horrific way, who was having trouble finding a new place, when he already knew how Frank felt about apartment hunting in the first place? “That piece of shit realtor said it’s unlikely I’ll find a place before the first of next month.” Frank mumbled pathetically as Gerard slid into the bed beside him and pulled the blankets over their shoulders.  
“That’s fine.” Gerard offered, wrapping an arm around Frank’s middle and pulling him closer, “That way you’ll have time to find a place you really like.”  
“Gerard, I can’t stay here for three fucking weeks.” Frank moaned.  
“Sure you can. You could stay here for three months if you needed to, Frank. You know I don’t mind” Gerard said, planting a kiss on the back of Frank’s head, “And if you get sick of me, you can stay with Mikey, or your friend Jamia, maybe? Or your mom. I could tell she misses you… The point is, no one’s going to let you be out on the street, you know that right?”  
“I hate you.” Frank mumbled.  
“Why?” Gerard laughed.  
“Cause you’re right…” Frank said, biting back a smile and wiping his eyes. He let out a deep sigh and pulled the blanket over his head.  
“Sorry for freaking out,” Frank sniffled, “I’m just… fucking stressed out.”  
“You should’ve told me you had a bad day. I could’ve gotten you a bottle of wine or something.” Gerard said.  
“You do enough already.” Frank said. “I don’t know if I’ve ever properly thanked you…”  
“No reason to thank me.” Gerard tutted. “Wait here a minute, okay? I’ll go finish putting your food together.”  
“Don’t leave.” Frank whined.  
“Well, I can’t just… leave all that stuff out.” Gerard said.  
“Sure you can.” Frank whined, hugging Gerard’s arm tight against his chest, “You’re too clean as it is.”  
“I resent that.” Gerard laughed, “And I’ve come a long way. Just ask Mikey.”  
“Mikey, sort of, already told me about that…” Frank admitted.  
“He did?” Gerard asked, feeling a small, inevitable twinge of panic in his chest, “What else has he told you?”  
“We don’t really talk about you very much.” Frank said, “He was telling me a story about when he was in highschool and he’d mentioned your... _trash dungeon.”_  
“It wasn’t a trash dungeon!” Gerard scoffed, “I’ll show Mikey a real trash dungeon.”  
“No reason to get embarrassed.” Frank giggled, “You saw my old room…”  
“Yeah, I guess I did.” Gerard agreed, propping himself up on his elbow to lean over and peck Frank’s cheek.  
“Thanks…” Frank breathed.  
“For what?” Gerard asked.  
“Everything.” Frank yawned, “Really, dude…”  
“You’re welcome.” Gerard said, hugging Frank tighter.  
He listened to Frank’s pounding heartbeat for a few moments, trying to figure out if there was some sort of defining factor that could help him notice the next time Frank was in such a bad mood. If he could pick up on Frank’s bad moods before he even told Gerard about them, he’d have more time to figure out how to fix them.  
“Can you take tomorrow off?” Gerard asked.  
“I shouldn’t.” Frank sighed, “The funding fell through for one of my bands who was supposed to tour Europe and I have to call all the venues...”“Couldn’t you do that here?” Gerard asked, “I mean, Mikey does stuff like that from the cabin all the time…”  
“I only get so many paid days off per year…” Frank sighed, “I don’t know, man.”  
“I’ll take the day off, too. We can play hooky.” Gerard pleaded.  
“Okay. Maybe.” Frank yawned.  
“It’s not a ‘no’ so I’ll take it.” Gerard said, sliding out from under the covers, “I’ll go e-mail my boss…”  
Frank made a small, sad noise and rolled over into the spot where Gerard had been laying.  
In the time it took him to finish putting together Frank’s midnight snack, put the rest of the bread away, and e-mail his boss, Frank had passed out. Gerard sighed and put the food in the fridge. He knew it wouldn’t be any good by morning. Just because he didn’t buy avocados often didn’t mean he was oblivious to the fact that they didn’t keep well.  
  
Gerard thought he’d had Frank convinced to call out of work, but the next morning he found himself half-awake and arguing with Frank over why he should take the day off. It was too early to have to fight to pull his half-dressed un-boyfriend back into bed with him. He’d never meant someone so hell-bent on maintaining their boring desk job.  
Of course, Gerard could be persuasive with his tongue without having to say a _fucking_ word, which he swiftly reminded Frank of as soon as he’d gotten the guy horizontal. After lazy, sleepy, morning sex, Gerard insisted that Frank go back to sleep, because what he needed more than anything was to just sleep in for once.He’d gotten up to make them coffee, only to find that he was almost out. There was enough left for half of a pot, which Gerard immediately started brewing. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been almost out of coffee. He’d definitely never run out in the entire six years he’d lived in his current apartment. He couldn’t think of a time he’d ever run out.  
Mikey had said the coming moon would be worse than usual and it was already starting to really fuck with Gerard. Clothes were just so uncomfortable when the moon started to pull him. This was perhaps the hardest thing to hide from Frank, especially since Frank was staying with him. He sometimes longed for the hour or so after sex where it was socially acceptable to remain undressed. As it was, he was standing in his kitchen completely naked as he sipped on his coffee reserves.  
He was genuinely torn between enjoying the small window of time where Frank wouldn’t think he was weird for being naked and going out to the store to get more coffee.  
Enjoying his freedom eventually won over his caffeine addiction when he remembered that Frank would probably be too stubborn to leave the apartment when he had work to do. If Gerard was out of coffee, Frank would have no choice but to go out for coffee with him.  
Manipulative? Maybe.  
Devious? _Absolutely._  
Gerard set aside a cup of his weakly brewed coffee for Frank and started on inking some pages of a comic he’d started drafting. When Frank finally woke up a few hours later, he dove right into making his boring, repetitive phone calls to his European labels, grumbling about the five hour time difference and business hours. He’d turned the living-room into a makeshift office. There were tables and scribbled notes all over the coffee table. Gerard didn’t understand how the phone calls couldn’t have waited for one day. Mostly he was completely horrified that Frank could work so efficiently with any coffee in his system. He could barely put words together without at least one cup.  
Frank eyes lit up when Gerard eventually pushed the cup he’d set aside into Frank’s line of view. Perhaps the punk was much more exhausted than he cared to admit. He had his cell phone pressed to one ear as he was explaining the tour situation to yet another label in a bored tone. With the other hand he reached out for the mug, which Gerard pulled out of his reach with a smirk.  
Frank sputtered and finished his phone call, death-glaring at Gerard every couple of seconds.  
“Why?” Frank huffed, when he’d finally hung up. “It’s almost one. Let me take you out to lunch.” Gerard said.  
“Gerard, you know I’d love to, but I’m in the middle of something.” Frank groaned.  
“Just coffee then?” Gerard asked.  
“I really can’t.” Frank sighed.  
“I’m out of coffee,” Gerard explained, “Will you just walk with me to get some more?  
“In the dead of winter?” Frank tutted, lifting himself up away from his work. “You’re lucky you’re cute...”  
  
The following day when Gerard was on his way home from work he went and got a set of his apartment keys copied for Frank. He felt awkward and fidgety the entire time the store attendant was making the copies.  
It wasn’t weird to give Frank keys to his apartment, was it? It was just to suit their temporary living situation so that Frank could come and go as he pleased without having to coordinate it with Gerard. That wasn’t weird. Gerard thought about calling Mikey to ask if it was weird, but he could already hear his brother’s cruel laugh.  
Gerard could feel the weight of the second set of keys in his coat pocket the entire way home. Even after he got home, he was overly aware of their presence. He hadn’t figured out how he was going to give them to Frank. He’d more or less rehearsed a dozen different things he could say when he handed them over, but everything he’d come up with sounded too, well, **_rehearsed._**  
Gerard was staring at the keys in the palm of his hand when he heard the intercom buzz. He felt his stomach drop as he flew over to push the button to let Frank into the building. He waited by his apartment door as he waited for Frank to make his way up the stairs.  
He swung the door open when he heard Frank’s footsteps in the hallway and, out of nervousness, grabbed him and kissed him the second he was in sight. Frank made a small, surprised sound as Gerard crushed their lips together.  
“Hi Frank.” Gerard said, pulling away slowly.  
“Um, hi, Gerard?” Frank grinned, leaning forward to kiss Gerard again.  
As Frank kissed him slowly and sweetly, Gerard started to freak out over the fact that he was still holding the keys in his hand. If he handed Frank the keys now it would be awkward and he’d have to explain to Frank why he’d kissed him first. This was all his own fault he supposed. He tried to covertly slide the small jingly things into his back pocket without Frank noticing.  
Gerard pulled him inside and shut the door behind them, taking Frank’s bag and helping him out of his coat.  
“What’s gotten into you?” Frank asked as Gerard was pushing him against the wall and trailing sloppy kisses down his neck.  
“Oh. I uh, I’m not sure.” Gerard mumbled, pulling away to look at Frank. The second their eyes met he felt himself blush like crazy.  
“I mean I don’t mind. At all.” Frank amended, shooting him a small smile, “It’s just that usually you wait for me to like, get in the door before you start to…”  
“Sorry.” Gerard mumbled.  
“Don’t apologize.” Frank said, “It’s nice to feel wanted.”  
“I make you feel wanted, huh?” Gerard flirted.  
“Yeah.” Frank nodded, “Like, all the time.”  
Now Gerard would _really_ have to wait to give Frank his keys…  
They ended up on the couch, kissing and talking with the TV on quietly. Gerard was still painfully overly aware of the set of keys in his back pocket. They stopped talking when they both got wrapped up in some stupid action movie. Frank kept chuckling at the cheesiness of the gore.  
“Uh, so Frank…” Gerard started, during a commercial break. Things had cooled down between them and he had seemingly regained enough control over his heartbeat to explain things to Frank is a calm, collected way.  
“Yeah, Gerard?” Frank echoed, glancing over at Gerard.  
Gerard felt his heart jump into his throat when their eyes locked. He was the one with supernatural qualities, so shouldn’t he have been the one to be able to make a person seize up with just one look?  
“Nothing.” Gerard offered.  
“No, what?” Frank asked, “What were you gonna say?”  
“I uh, it’s nothing really.” Gerard mumbled.  
“That’s not fair.” Frank groaned, leaning over to rest his head in Gerard’s lap.  
“It can wait.” Gerard argued.  
“If it’s nothing then just tell me.” Frank teased, gazing up at Gerard.  
Gerard just let out a deep sigh, feeling the words on the tip of his tongue.  
“Fine. I’ll wait.” Frank said. “But you know you can tell me anything. You’ve seen me fucking cry. Come on, Gerard, this is like, friendship 101...”  
In spite of Frank’s efforts in persuasion, they watched the rest of the terrible action movie in silence. Eventually Frank sat up and mumbled something about going to sleep. Gerard wanted to follow him but he was too frozen with awkward fear to get off the couch.  
“I’ll be in in a little bit.” Gerard said.  
“Alright dude.” Frank yawned.  
Two hours later and Gerard was still on the couch, _hating himself._ He’d made everything so awkward. There was no way to give Frank the copy of the keys in a way that wouldn’t be awkward. The second Gerard handed them over Frank would know it was why he’d been acting weird. They were still in his back pocket. He could feel them like the fucking tell-tale heart or some shit.  
Gerard considered just throwing them in the trash and forgetting about the whole thing. They’d only cost him a few dollars and he hadn’t even told Mikey about it. Nobody had to know, nobody had to get hurt.  
Then an idea hit him… He could just leave them on the kitchen counter with a note for Frank to find in the morning. His house guest would still probably know that it was why he’d been acting so weird, but this way Gerard would never have to see the look on his face. Hit with sudden inspiration, he reached for one of Frank’s notebooks that were sitting out on the coffee table and started drafting up a note:  
  
 _‘frank, keys, gerard’_  
 **Nope**. He tore the page out and crumpled it up. He gave it a second try:  
  
 _‘frank, come and go as you like. -gerard.’_  
 **Hell no.** The crumpled page joined the first on the floor.  
  
 _‘F, won’t be home tomorrow night, here’s a copy of the keys so you can let yourself in, G’_  
Okay.  
Okay. _Yeah._ He could leave that on his kitchen counter. The only problem was that he’d have to think of something to do the following night. He couldn’t say he wasn’t gonna be home and then… be home. Gerard was a creature of the night, he could find something to do.  
He left the set of keys on top of his note on the kitchen counter where he thought Frank was most likely to see it. He stared at them hopelessly one last time, feeling a tiny jolt of nervousness, before turning off the lights in the kitchen and going to lay down beside Frank.  
  
When Gerard had woken up the next morning and gone into the kitchen to start on coffee, the keys were gone. Frank had drawn a smiley face on the note.  
Gerard made dinner plans with Mikey for the night and stumbled into the apartment well after one to find Frank already asleep. Frank never mentioned the keys. He also never brought up Gerard’s poorly fumbled conversation from the night before. It was swept under the rug, with the laundry list of other things that Gerard was starting to worry they’d never get to talking about.  
  
Since Frank had a set of keys, he and Gerard fell into a strange, almost comfortable routine in the week or so that followed.  
Gerard had never considered the benefits being with someone who worked all the time, but now that he was sort of living it, he wondered why he’d never thought of it before. As the days inched closer and closer to the full moon, Gerard was losing his fucking mind. With Frank gone until nine or ten in the evening most nights, he usually had a few hours to himself after he got home from his shifts at the art store to hang out naked, jack off 700 times, eat bloody meat products, or whatever else his heart desired. He could almost fake being a normal human man by the time Frank floated in from work, exhausted and spent.  
The nights that Frank came home too tired for sex were the worst. Gerard would never pressure the guy into doing something he didn’t want to do. It was fine for Frank to not crave intimacy on a nightly basis. Gerard himself hadn’t had much of a sex drive before he’d been bitten. With all of that rationality in mind, Gerard’s physiology had other ideas. Frank’s smell sent his lust into burning overdrive. It was near-impossible to just sit quietly and talk about Frank’s day when all Gerard wanted was to grab Frank and swallow him whole.  
It wasn’t like Gerard knew how to explain it either. _‘Sorry, I can’t focus on anything you’re saying. I want to fuck you or eat you so badly right now.’_ was probably a bad way to start off the **‘hey, so i’m a fucking werewolf’** talk. Gerard had decided it was all just going to have to wait until Frank had his own place again. He’d tried to approach Frank about his feelings a few times, but it had felt too much like he was cornering the guy. He wanted the truth to come out naturally, when the time was right.Mikey had little advice for Gerard. He’d just told Gerard to make himself scarce when he was feeling particularly crazy. Gerard had tried to go on walks with headphones on in hopes the fresh air and music would clear his head, but between his hatred for clothes and the cold of winter, he rarely felt better by the time he got home. Usually when it got to be too much for Gerard, he’d excuse himself to take a shower. Sometimes he’d take a cold shower to try and tame himself, other times, when he was feeling hopeless, he’d just jack off enough to chill the fuck out.  
All in all, Gerard thought he was doing a fucking fantastic job of hiding his symptoms from his house guest. Frank had commented that Gerard seemed more on-edge, and that he showered too much, but aside from that he seemed completely oblivious to what was going on...  
  
Lycanthropy aside, Gerard loved this weird thing he had with Frank. _They had the best fucking un-relationship an overworked tour manager and a werewolf could possibly have._ Most mornings Frank hit the snooze button a few times to spend a little extra time laying in Gerard’s arms. And he always snuck back into the bedroom before he left to kiss Gerard goodbye.  
Frank was always bringing weird records home for Gerard to listen to. Sometimes he just wanted to show Gerard the cover art. They liked some of the same bands, but Frank was way more into punk, while Gerard was mostly just into weird experimental music he’d picked up in art school and rock opera soundtracks. Album art was the common ground. It was a language they both could understand.  
There were a few times that Frank asked Gerard if he’d ever considered designing show posters or band merch. Gerard had never even thought about it. Mikey had told him it was something he should try to get into, but Gerard had never known any bands in need of designs. Frank knew people like that. He wanted to introduce Gerard to them, if that was something Gerard wanted, too.  
Frank had tried to pick up drawing after watching Gerard doodle on a few occasions when they were watching TV together. He’d quickly gotten frustrated and given up. Gerard still brought home different kinds of pens from his work to see if any of them inspired Frank to keep trying. When Gerard glanced at all the paperwork Frank had splayed out across the coffee table, sometimes he could see doodles in the margins of his notes. It was just little things. Ghosts, mostly. Cracked skulls. Little sad faces.  
  
: (  
  
It was a particularly icy day in February that it all went to hell.  
Gerard had gotten out of bed when Frank got up for work, even though he wasn’t scheduled to go into work that day. He’d been inspired by a comic he’d been reading late into the night and wanted to make a pot of coffee and spend the day drawing.  
He was standing in the kitchen, watching the coffee put hiccup, when he heard Frank’s Vans scuff the linoleum flooring beside him.  
“Morning.” he mumbled pathetically, turning to plant a sleepy kiss on Frank’s forehead.  
“Morning...” Frank echoed.  
After a few seconds, Gerard realized Frank was just _standing_ there instead of getting ready for work.  
“Uh, what’s up, Frank?” Gerard asked.  
“Um, Gerard, what are you doing later?” He shot out, brushing his bangs out of his face.  
“No plans?” Gerard shrugged.  
“Cool. Uh, listen, I was gonna wait until I wasn’t crashing here anymore but like… Well, I was just wondering…” Frank mumbled on, fidgeting with the zipper on his sweatshirt.  
“See, like…” Frank faltered, “If you’re not doing anything, and I’m not doing anything, we could do something, y’know, like, _together.”_  
“Sure?” Gerard said, swallowing hard, “What were you thinking?”  
“Well, like, would you wanna maybe… _have dinner with me?”_ Frank sputtered on hesitantly. His cheeks were turning pinker with every word that escaped his lips.  
“Oh…” Gerard breathed, quickly realizing that Frank was fucking asking him out, “Uh, y-yeah. I would.”  
“Cool.” Frank nodded, smiling nervously, “It’s a date then?”  
“Yeah…” Gerard nodded. He sort of wanted Frank to punch him in the face just so he could verify that he wasn’t dreaming. Instead, Frank leaned forward and planted a kiss against Gerard’s lips.  
“Cool.” Frank repeated, “Well, I gotta get to work but there’s somewhere I wanted to take you so... I’ll text you the address…”  
Gerard was too stunned to move. He watched as Frank shrugged into his coat and headed for the door, turning to smile at Gerard before disappearing out the door.  
  
Gerard’s plans to spend the morning sketching character designs were officially ruined. He spent the first hour Frank was away contemplating every word that had been said. He wanted to call Mikey and tell him that him and Frank were no longer just friends, they were friends _with dinner plans._ Gerard, being a creature of the night, was quite superstitious and feared that if he called the younger way to tell him the good news, he would jynx the entire situation.  
Gerard spent the better part of his day dealing with the pre-transition side-effects. He lost count of the number of times he jacked off. He fried and consumed half a pound of bacon without any clothes on. He showered twice.  
Frank had texted him an address, and Gerard was torn on whether or not he should look the place up. He really wanted to know where Frank wanted to take him, but he also wanted to be surprised. If Frank was nervous, the place must’ve been thoughtful. Gerard decided he didn’t want to know ahead of time.  
The only problem was that he wasn’t sure what the fuck to wear if he didn’t know where they were going. He settled on something tight and all black, reasoning that anything he wore would be buried under his coat anyways. Frank wouldn’t be stopping back at the apartment to change, and he’d been in a button down shirt and jeans when he’d left, so Gerard wasn’t worried about having to dress up too fancy.  
He almost lost track of time straightening out his room. He checked to make sure there were condoms and lube in easy reaching distance, on the likely chance their date went well.  
Gerard wasn’t going to leave anything up to chance. The full moon may have been less than two weeks out, but he was not going to fuck things up again.  
By the time he left his apartment, a light rain had set in. Gerard pulled his hood up and trudged through the damp streets on the way to the subway. He’d left much earlier than necessary because there was no way in hell he could be late.  
In retrospect, it was probably good he left early. As he rode the train downtown, he thought it was odd that so many of the people around him were holding bouquets and balloons. He thought nothing of it as he stared into the red petals of a dozen red roses under some guy’s arm. It still hadn’t occurred to him, even when a little girl with a giant teddy bear sat down on the bench across from him.  
In fact, it didn’t occur to him until he stopped into a corner store to pick up a pack of cigarettes and saw the assorted heart-shaped chocolate boxes to the right of the cash register. He pulled out his phone in horror to check the date and sure enough….  
  
 _It was fucking Valentines Day._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IDEK WHAT THE HIGHLIGHT OF THIS CHAPTER IS?!   
> now, before you start yelling at me over this cliffhanger, i will let you in on a little secret: this particular cliffhanger was written into the original plot layout i wrote for this fic 384723948723 years ago.
> 
> sorry for the delay in updating though!! i've been slower to write this fic cause i don't ever want it to end. hope this was enough fluff for everyone before it all goes to hell.  
> (will calmly remind you i only write happy endings <3)
> 
> -m


	21. Valentine's Day, Ruined

Even if Gerard was the last person in all of New York city to realize it was fucking Valentine's day, he recovered from such a crashing realization with grace. He wondered what the man working the counter in the small corner store must’ve thought about the series of emotions that played across his face as it hit him. First came shock. Then terror. Followed by Panic. All chased by calm, cool _determination._  
If anything, Frank couldn’t know Gerard had spaced on  _the most romantic day of the year._  Gerard had to figure out how to make it look like he knew what the fuck he was doing, and fast. He spun around in search of a vegan-friendly valentine for Frank. First, he perused the candy aisle, picking up a few heart-shaped boxes and inspecting their ingredient lists. He could guess that milk chocolate probably wasn’t vegan. Candy hearts felt too half-assed. Jelly beans didn’t make  _any fucking sense._  
Abandoning candy, Gerard glanced around in search of the greeting cards. It took him less than a second to give up on  _that_  idea. While it was possible that  _Frank_  wouldn’t notice, anyone else who knew Gerard would know that he always drew his own cards. Gerard could just hear Mikey’s cruel laugh in his head.  
It was then that the wolfish urges overrode Gerard’s anxiety. He followed his nose, chasing the smell of roses. Without even meaning to he ended up in front of a series of bouquets, all in different states of presentability. If Gerard had to guess, he’d say most boyfriends had purchased their bouquets earlier in the day because there really wasn’t much left to choose from. Most of the remaining bouquets that had all their petals intact came in unnatural, offensive shades of neon. Gerard experimentally leaned forward, sticking his nose into an arrangement of cartoonishly blue carnations. The smell of the dye that had been soaked into the ends of the petals made his stomach turn. They probably wouldn’t have the same effect on Frank, but Gerard would’ve almost rather shown up empty-handed than give Frank something so…  _colorful._  His eyes landed on an arrangement of particularly wilted pink roses and his heart sunk.  
For a moment Gerard considered trying another store. There had to be several other places that sold flowers in the 3 or 4 blocks he’d have to walk to get to the restaurant where Frank was probably already waiting for him. Pressed for time, he gave the flowers in front of him one last glance. His eyes fell on a bouquet of white lilies. They were still well hydrated. Their smell wasn’t off-putting. They had all their petals. Those were pretty low standards for flowers, Gerard supposed, but they would have to do.  
Gerard grabbed them, frowning as the ends of the stems dripped onto the linoleum flooring, and carefully carried them to the counter to pay for them. Their wrapping crinkled loudly, alerting everyone around him of their presence. He could feel eyes on him in all directions and it made him a million times more self-conscious than he already seemed to be.  
“Almost forgot, eh?” the man behind the counter chuckled through his thick accent, “Very pretty. Your girlfriend will love.”  
Gerard was so engulfed in the stress of getting to Frank on time, he didn’t even bother correcting the guy. He’d even forgotten that he had originally come into the store to buy cigarettes. Flashing the cashier a polite smile, he handed over a few bills and silently took the flowers with him.  
The rain had picked up while he had been inside the corner store. Gerard wasn’t really aware of his own legs moving. It was more like he was floating along or perhaps vibrating. He was certainly nervous enough to travel by the shaky vibrations reverberating out of his chest. Passing strangers eyed Gerard curiously. He made a point to glare at them but it was hard to look menacing with a giant bouquet under his arm. If he squared his shoulders the way he wanted to he might crush the flowers and then it would all be for nothing.  
Gerard didn’t have anything nice to say about what he considered to be a  _bullshit, corporate holiday put in place to sell candy and cards,_  but if Frank was into it, Gerard would play along. He could complain about the greeting card industry at a later time, when he wasn’t in immediate danger of fucking up his shot at a place in Frank’s heart.  
Were cut flowers even vegan? Gerard only thought to ask himself such a question once he was less than a block from the restaurant. Frank ate dead plants all the time, but the plants under Gerard’s arm hadn’t died for culinary purposes... Gerard knew very little about cut flowers or veganism. Again, the thought of calling Mikey crossed his mind… but he could just picture Mikey’s cruel laugh in his head. He didn’t want to be refreshed on what that sounded like.  
A million things were running through Gerard’s head. Was he supposed to kiss Frank hello? Was he supposed to reach for Frank’s hand at dinner? What were they supposed to talk about? Should he ask Frank about his day or should he let Frank do the talking? If Gerard managed to fuck this up somehow, he’d never fucking forgive himself.  
The universe was already working against him. His clothes were already starting to feel uncomfortable against his over-sensitive skin, even though he’d only had them on for a little over an hour. The rain had brought the temperature of the air down considerably, but even so he was burning up. He could taste bile in the back of his throat. It was  _ **too soon**_  for him to be so consumed by the moon.  
Instead of looking at the numbers on the buildings, Gerard began to operate on scent. He could smell Frank from half a mile away. He wove through the cocktail of smells that the people on the bustling Manhattan street left, following the thin trail of his beloved punk. If there weren’t so many fucking people on the sidewalk, Gerard would just close his eyes and follow Frank on scent alone. His smell grew stronger and stronger with every step Gerard took until it overpowered the blends of cheap cologne, sex, roses, and booze.  
When Gerard finally looked up, there Frank was.  
Gerard’s first thought was that he had somehow gotten the time wrong and was incredibly late because Frank had a huge frown plastered across his face. He had tucked himself under an awning to avoid the worst of the rain, but even still he was dripping wet. The hood of his sweatshirt hung heavily over his hair, clinging to his forehead. He looked uncomfortable and dismal. A cigarette was clamped between his fingers, though he didn’t appear to be actually smoking it.  
“Frank, hey!” Gerard called, closing the distance between himself and the punk by wrapping an arm around Frank. He tried his best to hide the bouquet behind his back, as Frank hugged him. He was sure the crinkling paper gave him away.  
“Hey Gerard.” Frank mumbled back, burying his face in the crook of Gerard’s neck. The water almost immediately soaked into Gerard’s coat. He could feel the cool dampness leaching into his clothes everywhere their bodies touched. It was almost soothing, given the way he was burning up.  
With Frank suddenly so close, Gerard almost forgot himself. Frank just smelled too fucking good. Gerard could barely contain his urge to just…  _rip him to shreds._  The urge didn’t even really make any sense, but it was all-consuming. It took every ounce of Gerard’s willpower to not rub himself all over Frank.  
When Gerard pulled back, Frank was still frowning... Something clearly wasn’t right. He wouldn’t even look Gerard in the eye.  
“So, um, these are for you.” Gerard said, handing Frank the bouquet. It was dark enough that there was no way Frank could see the way his face was burning up.  
“Oh, you didn’t have to…” Frank trailed off, accepting the flowers and smiling weakly, “These are… _nice._  Thank you.”  
“You’re welcome.” Gerard said, feeling a small amount of relief wash over him. Frank was still fucking tense, but at least the flower plan hadn’t blown up in his face. ‘Nice’ was better than…  _not nice._  Gerard could work with ‘nice.’  
“Well, um, shall we?” Frank asked, lifting a dripping arm up towards the door to the restaurant.  
Gerard hesitated because Frank was hesitating. They stared at one another, both trying (and failing) to appear neutral about the whole thing.  
“We don’t have to… if you don’t want to.” Frank tested.  
“No. I… I  _want_  to do this.” Gerard said, aiming at reassuring.  
“Okay.” Frank nodded.  
Gerard followed behind Frank as he shouldered into the restaurant.  
It was total sensory overload the moment they were inside. Without fresh air, the awful cocktail of flowers and perfumes and alcohol and hormones that had been haunting Gerard on the sidewalk was a thousand times worse. He could practically smell how bad everyone in the room wanted to fuck each other. It made him want to leave and immediately throw up and die.  
Instead, he followed behind Frank and a nice, festively-dressed waitress who lead them deeper into the pits of Valentine's day hell. Gerard felt like an animal being shoved into a small cage as he slid into the booth seat across the table from Frank. The flowers he’d brought laid on the table between them, which did little to settle Gerard’s nerves. The restaurant was completely packed. Every table around them was occupied by individuals all in different stages of dinner.  
Gerard stole a glance up at Frank as the waitress placed menus and glasses of water in between them. He saw the same tension he was feeling reflected in Frank’s eyes.  
“How was your day?” Gerard asked conversationally. If Frank wasn’t going to tell him what was wrong, Gerard was just going to pretend nothing was wrong until Frank brought it up.  
He held out his hand, palm facing up, hoping Frank would take it as a sign he wanted to hold hands.  
“It was… Um, Gerard, listen,” Frank said, clearing his throat, “Can I tell you something?”  
“Yeah, sure.” Gerard said, trying to remain neutral.  
Frank wouldn’t meet Gerard’s eyes and it was seriously starting to freak him the fuck out.  
“So… I kind of can’t believe myself,” Frank said, pausing to gaze at something somewhere behind Gerard, “But this morning, when I asked you to have dinner with me I had no idea it was, you know, February Fourteenth…”  
“You mean you didn’t know it was Valentine's day today?” Gerard asked, a small unavoidable laugh escaping his lips.  
“Don’t laugh.” Frank moaned. “No. I had no fucking idea.”  
“It’s okay.” Gerard said, “I didn’t know either.”  
“But you got me flowers?” Frank pointed out, raising an eyebrow.  
“Do you have any idea how many places between here and the nearest subway platform sell flowers?” Gerard explained encouragingly, “ _A lot._ ”  
Frank bit his lip in thought. He glanced down at the flowers and then looked back up at Gerard.  
“I guess I don’t understand what’s so bad about this?” Gerard asked, “I mean, you’ve got a lot going on right now. It’s okay to forget stuff.”  
“It’s not that.” Frank said.  
“Then what is it, Frankie?” Gerard pressed, “What’s going on with you?”  
“I just had a bad day.” Frank offered cryptically.  
“Do you want to talk about it?” Gerard asked.  
“This isn’t really the place.” Frank said, lowering his eyes and sort of curling up in on himself.  
Gerard was already sort of at a loss for how formal dates were supposed to go, but he was pretty sure this was all wrong. He didn’t know what to do or say, so he just stared blankly at Frank, waiting for him to say something.  
“There’s no reason we can’t just… pretend it’s not valentine’s day?” Gerard tried when Frank still wasn’t talking, “If that would help?”  
Frank shook his head.  
The waitress came by and asked if she could take their order. Gerard politely told her they’d need a bit more time. Neither of them had looked at the menus. Frank didn’t seem to even care what was on them.  
“Please talk to me, Frank.” Gerard said, once the waitress was gone, “What’s wrong?”  
“It’s not your problem, it’s mine.” Frank said.  
“ _Make it my problem._ ” Gerard pleaded, “I want to help you.”  
“You can’t. You wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had, Gerard.” Frank snapped, and it was like Gerard had hit the venom jackpot, it came pouring right out of Frank.  
“This morning I walked into a meeting and walked out with three new interns to babysit, so I have to figure out how to find time to train them.” Frank said, rolling his eyes, “And then I don’t know if you remember that drummer my friend Vicky was fucking, but the dude fucking  _overdosed on heroin_  in his hotel room last night, so I have to plan a benefit party for the rest of his band and mourn his death and help her through it all at the same time. She’s been calling me all day. And on top of all that, I’m soaking wet, and I  _still_  have nowhere to live. Look, I don’t mean to bore you with the details. Today  _sucked._  But what I’ve realized through everything is that I don’t have time for this.  _At all._ ”  
“This?” Gerard asked.  
“This.” Frank repeated, “ _Us._ ”  
“Oh.” Gerard breathed.  
“Look…” Frank sighed, “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea here. I really- I- ”  
Gerard’s heart sank as Frank tripped over his own words. Frank smiled at him weakly, then.  
“I don’t care if you don’t have time for us.” Gerard offered, clearing his throat and locking eyes with Frank, “Listen, I know I’m maybe not the most experienced in this kind of thing, but isn’t the whole point of a relationship to be there for the other person? Through the good and the bad? Frank, I can  _be that._  I want to be that for you. If you’d just let me-”  
“I don’t think you understand, Gerard.” Frank interrupted. This time it was Frank who looked away.  
“ **I don’t trust you...** ” Frank went on softly, “I mean, In some ways I do, but in other ways I just… _fucking don’t._  And I can’t go into something…  _more serious…_  if I feel like this. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”  
Gerard supposed he sort of deserved to hear it, but it still hurt like all hell. The look Frank was giving him was like piercing daggers. There were no accusations or judgements in his eyes. It was just helpless, unfiltered honesty.  
“There’s no rush, Frank. It doesn’t have to be now or never.” Gerard said, “I know what I want from this, but it’s okay if you don’t. I can wait for you... until you’re sure about this. Nothing about us has ever been conventional, anyways.”  
“I don’t know if I’ll ever be sure, Gerard.” Frank countered morosely, “When we’re not together… When we’re not together, I’m always thinking about what you’re doing…  _Who_  you’re with… It’s not healthy and I’d love to stop… but it’s not going to just go away. I don’t think it  _ever_  will.”  
Frank glanced back over at Gerard. Tears pricked his eyes as he tried to smile at Gerard.  
The waitress walked passed them again. Now that Frank was crying she’d probably figured out they still weren’t ready to order. Gerard had lost his appetite anyways.  
“If we’re… whatever we are now.  _Whatever this is._  You can’t hurt me. If you’re out with someone else, it isn’t cheating, it’s just…  _you being you._ ” Frank explained.  
Gerard was beyond shocked. A million questions overloaded his already overloaded brain all at once. The first emotion that hit was anger, because Frank had accused him of something he’d never do. He tried to keep the feeling at bay, but  _God,_  was it hard to control. He’d never thought of himself as untrustworthy. He’d never been the type to be unfaithful. If he was in a relationship, he was in it all the way. He wanted Frank and only Frank. It hurt to realize Frank didn’t see that.  
“I know how awful this sounds…” Frank went on, “I’m just trying to be honest. With Turner dying- Talking to Vicky today I realized… life’s just too fucking short for this.”  
Gerard nodded. He got it. There were a million reasons Frank didn’t belong with him, but the reason Frank had decided to focus on didn’t even scratch the surface.  
“Oh God, It’s not even  _you_  that’s ruining this date right now… it’s  **me.”**  Frank sighed, “I’m so fucking sorry… I have to go.”  
And just like that Frank was sliding out of the booth and walking away from the table.  
Gerard hesitated for a moment before slapping a twenty on the table, grabbing the flowers, and hightailing it out of the restaurant after Frank.  
“Frank, wait!” Gerard called, ignoring the onlookers still waiting to get into the awful nightmare of a restaurant.  
Frank spun around as soon as Gerard called him.  
“What?” Frank groaned, wiping his eyes on his wet sleeve. He gave Gerard this defeated pleading look, begging him to go away.  
“Frank…” Gerard pleaded, “I haven’t kissed anyone else… since… since Mikey tried to set us up. I haven’t even  _thought_  about anyone else since then. I  _swear_  to you.”  
“It’s not about that, Gerard.” Frank sighed.  
“Then what is it about?” Gerard asked incredulously, “Please just explain it to me, Frank. I want to fix this. I…”  
The L-word was on the tip of Gerard’s tongue. It was maybe the worst possible timing, but he was so frustrated, so hurt, maybe if he could admit he loved Frank it would be enough to make Frank stop  _looking at him like that._  
“I don’t have time right now, Gerard.” Frank said shaking his head, “I know there’s stuff you haven’t told me. I know you have secrets. You’re  _allowed_  to have secrets. It’s not that. It’s just... I don’t have  _time_  for them. Not right now. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it.”  
Gerard glanced around at all the people staring at him. He could’ve just come right out with it. He could’ve told Frank what he was…  
But he didn’t.  
Frank gave him another five seconds to come clean, before sighing and saying,  
“I gotta go.”  
And then he was walking away from Gerard.  
  
Gerard thought about chasing after Frank, but he didn’t. He  _couldn’t._  
Frank didn’t want him to. Not like Gerard had hoped.  
  
Gerard tried not to make any inhuman sounds as he turned on his heels and shuffled down the street towards the subway. Frank’s scent followed after him for blocks and blocks, serving as a torturous reminder that things could’ve gone differently.  
He thought through all the times he could’ve just told Frank how he felt. All the times he could’ve told Frank what he was… Maybe if Gerard had told him, they’d still be sitting there, having dinner. Gerard wondered if there was a parallel universe where Frank and Gerard ended up together and went out to dinner together every valentine’s day.  
Gerard clutched the flowers tightly, fighting tears. He didn’t know what their conversation meant in the long run. He assumed it meant he wouldn’t be seeing much of Frank anymore. The idea made him sick to his stomach.  
He hadn’t realized Frank didn’t trust him, though he supposed he should’ve known. It wasn’t something he really knew how to fix. He needed advice, almost as much as he needed to take his clothes off. The emotional impulse send the lycanthropic side effects into overdrive. He pulled off his coat and let the light rain soak right into his clothes. Gerard was thankful for the rain. Most people couldn’t tell the difference between tears and rain, especially in the dark.  
He wasn’t really looking where he was going and bumped into a man walking arm in arm with a small blonde woman.  
“Hey, watch it man!” the guy muttered angrily under his breath.  
Gerard turned and glared at the guy, letting out a horrifying rip of a growl.  
The guy looked genuinely frightened by the sound.  
Gerard had taken satisfaction in scaring the couple at first, but after he’d walked another twenty feet, he just felt like a monster. He was a monster, after all. An  _unlovable_  monster.  
  
He flagged down a cab, still fighting the urge to turn and run after Frank. Frank’s scent was still wafting down the street. It was faint now, but it was still there. Gerard could still pick him out, out of the hundreds of other people. Maybe it was because the scent was still fresh in his mind, but maybe it was more. Maybe no one would ever get to Gerard the way that Frank could.  
  
Traffic in the city was miserable. The rain picked up, making it almost impossible to see through the windshield. Gerard’s cab driver went nice and slow as a safety pre-caution. After awhile, he couldn’t have gone fast if he wanted to as cabs piled up bumper to bumper. There was a river of brakelights beside the river forming in the gutters. If Gerard hadn’t been so busy picking apart the pieces of him that someone might find ‘untrustworthy’ he might’ve enjoyed the poeticism of a rainy valentine’s day. It didn’t help that he was also extremely worried that Frank had gotten caught in the worst of it. He couldn’t stop thinking about how Frank was out there somewhere. He couldn’t stop wondering what was going through Frank’s head.  
He couldn’t figure out why Frank hadn’t canceled their date altogether. Surely, he’d had plenty of time to do it.  
But Gerard  _knew_  Frank. Frank had probably changed his mind thirty times between realizing what day it was and arriving outside of the restaurant.  
Maybe things would be different in the morning. Gerard remembered how destructive and reckless he’d been when he lost his grandmother. Death made people do crazy things.  
Gerard didn’t blame Frank. Sure, he thought Frank was being irrationally paranoid about Gerard’s intentions… But Gerard couldn’t deny he’d given Frank plenty of things to be irrationally paranoid about in the first place. It was his fault.  
No matter how he looked at it, it was all his fault.  
  
After what felt like a thousand years, Gerard made it home. He stripped off his rain soaked clothes and arranged Frank’s flowers in one of his grandmother’s old vases, with some sugar water to keep them fresh.  
The entire apartment smelled like Frank. Gerard almost wanted to curl up in bed and just breathe it in, hold onto it for as long as it would last. The smell was usually so comforting to Gerard, but now it only made him want to cry more.  
After setting the vase of flowers on the small table by his front door, he tried calling Frank, unsurprised when he got no answer. Biting his lip, listening through Frank’s voicemail greeting, he decided on leaving a message.  
  
“If you ever change your mind,” Gerard said into his phone, “I’ll always want you...”  
  
He figured honesty was the best policy. That was what his grandmother had always taught him. Making such a declaration over the phone had felt cowardly. Gerard hadn’t been able to admit it to Frank’s face, and somehow he could admit it over the phone, completely naked and pacing in his kitchen.  
Another twenty minutes of pacing around his apartment waiting for Frank to call him or show up or _something,_  Gerard couldn’t take it any more. Frank had picked the worst possible night to dump him. The moon was ripping him apart enough as it was. He didn’t need Frank ripping apart the rest of him.  
Everything about his apartment reminded him of Frank. Frank’s scent was everywhere. His stuff was everywhere. It was  _torture._  
Gerard let out a half-howl, half-moan as he reached for his phone again.  
He caved and called Mikey, surprised by how quickly Mikey answered.  
“What’s up?” Mikey asked.  
“Can I come over?” Gerard asked.  
“You’re supposed to be with Frank.” Mikey pointed out.  
“Not anymore.” Gerard sighed, “Or maybe ever again.”  
“Huh…” Mikey hummed, “Well, my girlfriend is on tour so I’m not doing shit tonight... come over.”  
  
As soon as Gerard was standing on the subway platform, it occurred to him that maybe staying at home would’ve been better. If Frank changed his mind and came looking for Gerard, Gerard wouldn’t be home.  
As he watched the train pull into the platform, the wolfish rage took over again. If Frank thought he was untrustworthy, Gerard could show him untrustworthy. If that was honestly what Frank thought, Gerard felt he was under no obligation to wait up for him.  
~  
  
Mikey Way seemed completely unphased by the sniffling, puffy-eyed, rain soaked three-quarters-of-a-man that appeared in his doorway.  
He did what any younger brother ought to do: He cracked the bottle of whiskey he’d been saving for a rainy day, put on some music, and laid down on the floor next to his mess of an older brother. He kept quiet while Gerard talked.  
At first, Gerard’s mood seemed to worsen as he went over the details of his miserable date. He seemed to work through the worst of it as he talked. He really thought Frank had him all wrong but it seemed ridiculous to be mad about it at all when Frank was sort of right because Gerard had secrets after all. But Frank didn’t know about them but oh m a y b e h e d i d.  
Gerard had taken one of Frank’s flowers with him in case he ran into the punk again. He was checking his phone every five minutes to make sure he hadn’t missed any calls and it was starting to drain the battery.  
Mikey almost wished he’d put a bet on it. Seeing his brother so worked up over a fucking boy was a sight he never thought he’d see. Gerard seemed to wear himself down, and it was only when he’d grown tired of repeating himself that Mikey chose to speak.  
  
“Gerard, white lilies are what you give to someone who is  _mourning,_  not...” Mikey paused to break into laughter, “Not  _Frank._ ”  
“That’s hardly relevant.” Gerard pointed out crossly.  
“Lighten up.” MIkey said, still wheezing.  
“I can’t, Mikey.” Gerard sighed, “I… I fucking  _love him._ ”  
“He loves you, too...” Mikey said encouragingly,  _“Probably. Most likely.”_  
“You’re not helping.” Gerard grumbled, blowing a few delicate smoke rings at the ceiling.  
“You guys just had a fight. I know you’ve never stuck around with someone long enough to fight with them, but it happens, Gee.” Mikey offered, “You’ll get through it.”  
“We didn’t fight, he  _dumped me.”_  Gerard pointed out crossly.  
“Did he say the words, ‘I never want to see you again?’” Mikey asked, “Did he say, ‘Gerard Way, you and I are over?’”  
“Well, no…” Gerard mused, “But he-”  
“Then he probably wants to see you again, Gerard.” Mikey assured, “He just needs space. Everyone’s going pretty crazy over Turner ODing. Our entire office was a shit show today.”  
“I know…” Gerard said, “I just… I wish he wanted me around? I wish he thought of me as a person he could come to with this sort of thing. If it had been me, I would’ve wanted  _him_  around, you know?”  
“The one thing I don’t get is... why didn’t he just cancel your dinner plans? Seriously. Like, what kind of sadistic asshole makes someone trek all the way out to a bougie restaurant in the rain on the most unpleasant day of the year, just to…  _do that?”_  Mikey mused.  
“He seemed genuinely conflicted about it.” Gerard sighed, “But that’s probably my fault, too. If I was just…  _a good person_ … he wouldn’t have anything to be conflicted about.”  
“Okay,  _fuck that.”_  Mikey protested, “You’re fucking stupid and you mess things up sometimes, but that doesn’t mean you’re not a good person.”  
“Frank doesn’t think I’m a good person.” Gerard said.  
 _“Did he explicitly say that?”_  Mikey asked warily.  
“No, but he used every possible synonym he knows.” Gerard said, reaching for the bottle of whiskey between them and tilting it against his lips, “But, no, he didn’t say that.”  
“He probably thinks you’re a good person.” Mikey suggested, grabbing the bottle from Gerard and taking a swig.  
“Do you think he knows… what I am?” Gerard asked hesitantly, stubbing out his cigarette and lighting another one. It had to be the twentieth time he’d asked.  
“I don’t see how he could.” Mikey said, setting the bottle down, “But it definitely sounds like he’s onto you.”  
“Yeah.” Gerard agreed.  
“You should just  _tell him.”_  Mikey suggested.  
“Now?” Gerard asked.  
“Why not now?” Mikey echoed.  
“I don’t want to make things any more complicated than they already are.” Gerard said.  
“Honest question. How is  _not telling him_  less complicated than telling him?” Mikey laughed.  
“It just…  _is.”_  Gerard said.  
“If he finds out and he doesn’t like it… he kind of has every right to break up with you for real.” Mikey pointed out.  
“I know.” Gerard sighed,  _“I know.”_  
“So tell him.” Mikey said.  
“He said he didn’t have time for it right now.” Gerard mused morosely, “I’m not going to chase him anymore. I’ll... wait until he wants to talk to me again.”  
“You’ll just find more reasons not to tell him once you’re talking again.” Mikey pointed out.  
“If we ever talk again.” Gerard laughed bitterly.  
“Whatever Gerard. Don’t tell him, then. It’s your funeral…” Mikey sighed, reaching for the whiskey again.  
~  
  
Gerard stayed at Mikey’s for a few nights, uninterested in returning to his Frank-scented apartment.  
Gerard had made Mikey hand-deliver the single, wilted white lily to Frank’s desk the day after Valentine’s day. Mikey had said he’d brought it into work, only to find that Frank had called out. Frank called out the day after that and the day after that as well.  
Gerard tried calling him a few times, always getting his voicemail. He’d basically memorized Frank’s stupid professional voicemail about leaving a call-back number, about “keepin’ it rockin.’”  
Frank didn’t call him back. Not the next day or the day after that or the day after that.  
  
It was maybe a dick move, but after a few days, Gerard decided he’d try to catch Frank at the bar, where he worked on Thursday nights. After his shift at the art store, Gerard had gone home and dressed in all black, sprayed himself lightly with his most seductive cologne he owned, and even fussed with a bit of hair product.  
His cleanly shaven face felt clammy in the biting winter air, he wrapped his scarf tighter around his face as he made his way to the bar.  
It was warm inside the bar. The smell of alcohol and businessmen flooded Gerard’s senses.  
He noticed immediately. Frank’s scent was not mixed into the concoction.  
He made his way to the counter to ask about Frank, only to learn he’d called out.  
  
Mixed in with the disappointment and hurt and anger, Gerard was starting to grow worried. He couldn’t figure out where Frank had gone or why. Even if they were over for good, that hardly seemed like a reason to disappear the way that Frank had.  
After leaving Frank’s bar empty-handed, Gerard decided it was finally time to start sleeping in his own apartment again. Mikey’s girlfriend had returned from tour and Gerard wanted to give them space.  
The moon rose as Gerard made his way home. He was burning up by the time he got inside his apartment. As soon as he’d pulled off his winter clothes, he opened as many windows he could. Airing out his apartment when it was 20 degrees outside wasn’t among his smarter decisions, but the chill actually seemed to subdue the burn rippling under his skin.  
Pinching his nose, Gerard wandered around his apartment, collecting things that belonged to Frank and putting them all in a big cardboard box. He changed his sheets. He changed his pillowcases. He stripped the covers off of his couch cushions and threw them in a bag to take to the laundromat when he had time.  
The place still smelled like Frank, more than anything else, but it was certainly less overwhelming than it had been.  
Satisfied, Gerard curled up in bed and pulled the blankets over his head.  
Love was exhausting and required too much cleaning.  
~  
  
When Gerard woke up the next morning, there were piles of melting snow in his apartment. He hadn’t meant to leave the windows open overnight. He thought he’d get up at some point to use the bathroom or get a glass of water or something, but he’d managed to sleep all through the night.  
He spent the first hour of the day cleaning up the puddles that had formed. He hoped no one in the neighboring apartment buildings was looking out their windows, because they would’ve had a hard time piecing together what the naked man in the apartment across the street was doing with all of his windows open in the middle of February.  
One nice thing about not having Frank around was he could do whatever he wanted without having to explain shit. That was, quite possibly, the only perk of dating someone of his own kind. Mikey had made efforts to find werewolf dating sites. They existed, it turned out, but they were used almost exclusively by creepy straight werewolves, looking to prey on freshly-turned, inexperienced females. Naturally, those guys were of no interest to Gerard.  
  
The white lilies sat in Gerard’s grandmother’s vase by the door, wilting more and more every day. He’d changed out their water and added vodka after reading that it would keep them fresh for longer. He had plans to drink the other 99% of the bottle when he got home from his shift at the art store.  
Though after his shift ended, he found he had a few missed calls from Mikey. It turned out the record label was throwing a party that evening, and while Frank had planned the event, he wasn’t likely to show up. No one had seen him all week.  
Mikey wanted Gerard to come. No surprises there.  
Gerard took the subway back to his apartment, not sure if he wanted to go to the party or not. What was worse? Wallowing in self pity, vodka and the lingering scent of his former un-lover? Or going out somewhere with his brother and his brother’s girlfriend, with the small chance he’d run into Frank while he was on the verge of coming apart at the seams?  
The more he thought about it, the more obvious it became that Gerard should go, even if it was just for an hour or so.  
He performed a similar ritual to the one he’d performed the night before. All black. Soft spray of cologne. Tousling his hair with product.  
He felt wild, but he looked tame enough, he supposed.  
  
Gerard took the train downtown to meet Mikey and his girlfriend at another bar in the neighborhood so they could all walk over together.  
Mikey and Alicia, it turned out her name was, did a spectacularly awful job at not making Gerard feel like a third wheel. They held hands while the three of them talked about how stupid valentine’s day was. Gerard eyed Mikey suspiciously, wondering if he’d filled his girlfriend in on the misery that was Gerard’s lovelife. He supposed he appreciated their attempts at making him feel better. He did feel better, sort of, after Alicia told him a long story about a time she’d been dumped on Valentine’s day. They ordered a round of shots in commiseration.  
Gerard liked Alicia. She was sweet and thoughtful, and a thousand times more fun than Mikey. He liked the way they balanced each other out.  
Gerard had a nice buzz going by the time they headed over the party. As they neared the bar, Gerard’s heart leapt into his throat. He could smell Frank all the way down the block.  
For a split second he thought about ditching. Mikey wouldn’t be happy about it, but Gerard could run about a thousand times faster than Mikey on any given day.  
Gerard kept moving forward though. It wasn’t like he was going to the party to ambush Frank, Frank just happened to be there. That was how he justified it in his head. Frank just didn’t have time for Gerard, so Gerard could pretend he didn’t have time for Frank either. They could be in the same room without any problems. Gerard was certain of it. If Frank wanted him to leave, Gerard would.  
Gerard kept his eyes on the floor as he waded through the crowd towards the counter to order a round of drinks for the three of them.  
As the bartender made his way over to Gerard, Gerard realized he recognized the guy in a vague sort of way.  
“Hi Gerard.” the guy said, smiling sweetly.  
“Uh, hi?” Gerard replied slowly.  
His hair was different, but he was coated in the same glittery makeup. This was the same bartender from the last label party Gerard had attended. The one Gerard had flirted with in front of Frank.  
“I suppose I don’t expect you to remember me.” The guy said.  
“Oh, no, I remember you. You’re hair’s just different.” Gerard said, “Ryan, right?”  
“You like?” Ryan asked, running a hair through his short, styled hair.  
“It’s nice.” Gerard said.  
“Well shit, my barber must’ve really fucked up then.” Ryan laughed.  
“No, sorry. I’m just…” Gerard faltered.  
“You’re fine. I’m just giving you shit. What can I get you?” Ryan asked, leaning forward on the bar.  
“Three shots of Jameson.” Gerard said.  
“You’re not fucking around tonight. Fighting with Frank again?” Ryan asked.  
“They’re not all for  _me._ ” Gerard laughed, “And uh, fighting would be the polite way of putting it, I suppose...”  
“That must be why he hired me again.” Ryan mused, “We used to work together at this place on the lower east side so he knows all about how good I am. But he stopped using me for stuff like this? He was sort of mad at me over…  _well, you know._ ”  
“You failed to mention you two knew each other.” Gerard pointed out incredulously.  
“Silly me.” Ryan smirked.  
Gerard glared at Ryan then. If Frank and Ryan knew each other that sort of explained why he’d been all over Gerard that night...  
“Anyways, three Jameson it is…” Ryan sighed, lifting himself off the bar and spinning around to grab a bottle off the shelf.  
Gerard left his cash on the bar and carried Ryan’s expertly poured shots back to the table Mikey and Alicia had found. The room was more solemn than seemed appropriate for a party, Gerard noted. Mikey hadn’t been joking when he’d said everyone was shaken up by the drummer’s death. People were smiling, but no one was laughing. No one was yelling. They were sombre, controlled.  
When Gerard got back to the table, Mikey was gone.  
“He saw someone in some band he’s obsessed with.” Alicia explained with a knowing smirk before Gerard could even ask.  
“I don’t know what I was expecting.” Gerard laughed.  
“More for me.” Alicia said, sliding the extra shot towards herself.  
It was then that Gerard saw Frank across the room. He was talking to some girl Gerard didn’t recognize. They were smiling, leaning in to exchange words with one another as their eyes scanned the crowd.  
“Earth to Gerard.” Alicia said.  
“Sorry, what?” Gerard asked.  
“I asked what you were looking at.” Alicia said, “What could possibly be more important than taking this shot with me?”  
Gerard grabbed the small glass off the table and clinked it against Alicia’s, knocking it back.  
“Oh wait. Is that Frank?” Alicia asked.  
“That’s Frank.” Gerard nodded, exhaling away the burn of the whiskey.  
“Mikey wasn’t kidding. He’s hot.” Alicia commented, “Good job, Gerard.”  
“Thanks?” Gerard said, trying not to think too much on his own brother describing Frank as ‘hot.’  
“You should go talk to him.” Alicia said.  
“No I shouldn’t.” Gerard said, “He looks… happy.”  
And Frank  _did_  look happy. He looked great. He had a huge smile plastered across his face. The dark circles had faded from under his eyes. He’d fashioned his hair up in this douchey half-mohawk thing that Gerard sort of hated almost as much as he loved.  
Gerard was sort of mad that Frank looked so happy. He’d been  _so worried._  It hardly seemed fair that Frank could be so happy when Gerard had been  _so miserable._  
“He looks  _happy_  to you?” Alicia asked, “He just looks drunk to me...”  
“I’m not here to ruin his night.” Gerard said, “I only came here because I wanted to hang out with you and Mikey. And besides Mikey said Frank wouldn’t even be here. It’s not my fault he’s here.”  
“Gerard,” Alicia laughed, “Why wouldn’t someone show up to a party  _they planned?_  That doesn’t make any sense. Mikey must’ve been fucking with you.”  
“He wouldn’t.” Gerard said.  
Alicia just shot him a sympathetic, knowing look.  
“I’m going to get us another round of shots.” Alicia sighed, “Maybe if I get you drunk enough you’ll go talk to him.”  
Gerard put his head down, trying to make himself as small and unnoticeable as possible as he waited for Alicia to return with more shots. He was grateful she was the one to go up to bar this time. He couldn’t face Ryan again. He should’ve known Frank would be there, looking good, and having a great time without Gerard.  
He had to have known Frank would be there. He must’ve just been in denial about it. He had to have known how torturous it would be to see Frank again.  
Alicia returned with two shots for each of them. Gerard downed them as quickly as his turning stomach could handle.  
They settled into a conversation about getting revenge on exes. It turned out that she, too, was a visual artist, who usually dated visual artists. One time, after a guy had dumped her, she took all his expensive, fancy oil paints and squirted them all over his vintage muscle car. While Gerard appreciated Alicia’s dark sense of humor, he also sort of feared for the eventuality of her breakup with Mikey. The idea of someone pouring out all his expensive paints made him feel sick. Then again, that might’ve been the whiskey.  
Gerard was still reeling over the reality that Frank and Ryan knew each other. How had Frank never mentioned it? He realized that his statements outside the restaurant the other night had been sort of untrue. He’d never kissed Ryan, but he’d certainly  _thought_  about going home with  
him. ..  
Gerard’s vision was starting to swim a little bit, and that was how he knew he needed to go home. He still couldn’t figure out where Mikey had gone off to, but he was used to Mikey disappearing at functions like this, and honestly, talking to Alicia had been therapeutic in this strange, sweet, undeniable sort of way.  
“So are you gonna go talk to him now?” Alicia asked, sipping on a glass of water.  
“No, actually, I think I need to get out of here.” Gerard said. He looked up to where Frank had been standing before. He was long gone now.  
“You’re no fun.” Alicia pouted.  
“I get that a lot.” Gerard laughed, “Anyways, I gotta go talk to the bartender, but then I think I’m gonna take off.”  
“I’ll go find Mikey...” Alicia grumbled, sliding out of her chair, “Thanks for hanging out with me.”  
They exchanged hugs and phone numbers before parting ways, promising they’d hang out again sometime, Mikey or no Mikey. They both knew that hanging out with Mikey was often about the same as hanging out without Mikey.  
Gerard made his way over to the bar, this time glancing around to make sure Frank wasn’t anywhere near.  
“Gerard.” Ryan said fondly, as soon as he noticed Gerard standing there, “What can I do for you? Another round?”  
“No, ahm, actually. I wanted to buy a drink… for Frank.” Gerard said, sliding a bill onto the counter.  
“Well, that’s about the last thing he needs right now.” Ryan laughed, “But I’d be happy to take your money… Do you want me to relay any messages?”  
“No.” Gerard said, “In fact, I’d prefer if you didn’t mention seeing me at all.”  
“You sure have strange tactics, Gerard.” Ryan said, “I’d love to get into your head… figure out how you get guys like Frank so worked up over you.”  
“Next time I see you around, we’ll talk.” Gerard promised, smiling weakly.  
“Alright.” Ryan winked, “Take care.”  
  
Gerard slipped out of the bar without being seen. He stepped into the shadows outside to light his cigarette. He exhaled, feeling himself sober in the freezing air.  
People were crowded around in little groups, smoking outside of the bar wherever they could find refuge from the winter winds. Gerard listened to their conversations as he took a much-needed drag.  
“L.A. is better for comics, but New York is better for zines.” some girl was saying. Gerard sort of agreed but he couldn’t fully focus on his eavesdropping. He could smell Frank on the breeze. Frank had to have been around recently. Perhaps he’d just left. Perhaps he was-  
“Gerard?” a familiar voice slurred.  
Gerard’s heart sank. He looked up to find Frank staring at him. His eyes were glazed over. His stupid hairdo had flattened out. He smelled like alcohol and pot and hair product and Frank. And Oh God, Gerard was going to come  ** _undone._**  
“I didn’t know you’d be here.” Frank said, stepping right into Gerard’s space and frowning at him curiously.  
“I was just leaving.” Gerard offered, looking away. He knew if he looked at Frank for too long he’d be totally fucked.  
“You don’t have to.” Frank offered quickly, “If you don’t want to, I mean.”  
“I sort of have somewhere I’ve got to be...” Gerard offered cryptically. He knew it was a dick move to lie, but he was saying it before he could stop himself.  
“Oh. Nevermind then.” Frank said neutrally.  
“Have you seen Mikey around?” Gerard asked, “I wanted to say goodbye but I can’t seem to find him...”  
“He was out here a little while ago.” A girl beside Frank piped up.  
Gerard glanced up in the direction of her voice.  
“This is my friend Jamia, by the way.” Frank said, waving a hand at the girl he’d been chatting with earlier in the evening.  
“I think we’ve met before.” Jamia said, smiling at Gerard, “Briefly. Some other label function.”  
“You work for the label, too?” Gerard asked.  
Jamia nodded. The way she was smiling at him politely left Gerard unnerved. If she knew who he was and what he meant to Frank, shouldn’t she have been glaring instead of smiling?  
This was the exact situation Gerard had wanted to avoid. He couldn’t make sense of the stiff politeness. He was too drunk, too  **wild**  for this.  
“Um, I could help you find him.” Frank said, biting his lip.  
“Alright.” Gerard agreed. He didn’t really need help finding his younger brother. Gerard could just call him if it was emergent. He supposed he could  _run_  from this situation. He was good at that. He could outrun anyone, if he really wanted. Anyone but Frank, apparently.  
“Wait, Frank, give me your cigarettes.” Jamia said as Frank took a step towards the door to the bar.  
Frank dug in his pocket and sloppily handed Jamia his pack, rolling his eyes at her as he pushed Gerard into the shadows.  
Gerard followed Frank back into the bar. While the warmth was welcome, the cocktail of cocktails wafting off of the crowd inside made Gerard sick to his stomach.  
Frank led them through the main room and down a hallway with a sign saying it lead to the bathrooms. As they were passing the men’s room, the door squeaked loudly as it opened.  
Mikey took one glance between Gerard and Frank, smirked, and fluidly moved passed them, back towards the bar.  
“Found him.” Gerard commented.  
“Yeah, well, uh… can I… talk to you for a second?” Frank asked hesitantly, “Before you leave?”  
“Alright.” Gerard nodded.  
Frank grabbed Gerard’s arm and pulled him into the bathroom. Gerard was somewhat apprehensive to follow, especially when he saw the state of the place. The walls were covered in graffiti. The floor was damp with what Gerard prayed was the melted slush everyone had walked in from the streets and not piss. It certainly smelled like the latter.  
“What’s up?” Gerard asked when the door swung shut behind them.  
“I miss you.” Frank slurred, leaning into Gerard.  
“You sure have a funny way of showing it.” Gerard laughed bitterly. It felt so fucking good to have Frank touching him, Gerard almost forgot himself for a moment. He let his eyes flutter closed and breathed Frank in, wrapping his arms around him to pull him closer. He tried not to hug Frank too tight, but Frank was nuzzling his face in Gerard’s coat.  
He was more confused than anything else. He cursed himself for not just staying at home and avoiding Frank completely. He wasn’t sure how long they stood there, holding each other in the filthy bathroom, but he didn’t question it.  
“Why haven’t you been taking my calls, Frankie?” Gerard asked, squeezing Frank tighter, “Where have you  _been?”_  
“I’ve been busy...” Frank slurred,  _“Thinking_ , you know?”  
“No. I don’t know.” Gerard said.  
“Everything is so fucked up.” Frank said,  _“Literally everything._  I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know how to go back...”  
“Calling me back would’ve been a fucking great start.” Gerard said, “I’ve been so fucking worried about you.”  
“I’m sorry.” Frank slurred.  
He tilted his head up and pressed his lips against Gerard’s all sloppy and sweet. Gerard wanted to fight him, but he was only human.  _Mostly human, anyways._  Frank was so good he made Gerard’s head spin. His lips were so soft, so warm, so familiar and comforting. Gerard would’ve been cool with just dying right then and there.  
“Take me home with you.” Frank demanded softly, blowing warm alcohol breath on Gerard’s face.  
 _“Frank-”_  Gerard protested.  
“Please, Gerard.” Frank pleaded, “Everything is so terrible. You’re the only thing that’s  _good_ anymore.”  
Gerard wanted to point out how untrue that sentiment was, but the way Frank was clutching at his coat had him convinced.  
Gerard groaned in uncertainty and lust as Frank dragged his teeth over Gerard’s neck.  
“Alright.” Gerard said, kissing Frank carefully.  
“I just have to go close out my tab, wait for me outside?” Frank asked, stumbling back.  
Gerard nodded helplessly. He was so  _fucked._  Frank backed out of the bathroom first. Gerard spun to check his hair in the mirror before following after. He didn’t like to look at himself too much when he was feeling so wild. Taking in his own feral state had a tendency to amplify everything he was feeling. It was unpleasant to confirm that he looked as crazy as he felt.  
Gerard shouldered his way through the crowd back to the outside, half-heartedly looking to catch another glimpse of Mikey as he went.  
Jamia was still standing outside. She looked up when she heard the door open. She smiled at Gerard and looked back down at her borrowed cigarette.  
Gerard leaned against the outside wall of the bar next to her and lit a cigarette of his own.  
“We overdid it...” she commented, “I think he needed to blow off some steam though.”  
“Frank, you mean?” Gerard asked.  
“Who else?” Jamia asked, taking a drag off her cigarette.  
“He um, he said something about going home with me.” Gerard said, “But I know how drunk he is. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea… I’m not  _like that.”_  
“I know you’re not. You’re related to Mikey Way, for christ’s sake.” Jamia laughed. Her eyes were as glassy as Frank’s, but she seemed much more together than Frank did somehow. Years of experience, maybe?  
“Still, thanks for saying that.” Jamia added, “You’re a good guy, Gerard.”  
“I don’t know about that.” Gerard sighed.  
“Can I ask you something though?” Jamia asked.  
“Sure. Anything.” Gerard nodded, fussing with his hair. He wanted to make sure he looked as good as possible before Frank came back.  
“Do you love him?” Jamia asked.  
“...I do.” Gerard said.  
He wasn’t sure he was supposed to admit it to a friend of Frank’s, but it just came out so easily. What was the use in lying, anyways? When he looked over at Jamia, she smiled at him warmly.  
“Good...” Jamia commented, “I think he needs that right now.”  
Gerard wanted to ask what she meant but he heard the bar’s door squeak open behind them. Frank leaned against Gerard, resting his head on Gerard’s shoulder.  
“Will you be able to get home okay by yourself, J?” Frank asked.  
“Always.” Jamia smirked.  
It all felt too good to be true. Frank blew his friend a kiss goodbye and then they were alone, walking to the next intersection in hopes of flagging down a cab back to Gerard’s place. They walked arm and arm, mostly because Frank couldn’t walk straight.  
Frank didn’t say much while they were walking, so Gerard didn’t either. He was too afraid any words he might say would shatter any desire Frank had to stay with him. He could feel Frank shivering against him, which made the situation all too real.  
Eventually they made it to the corner and Gerard stepped into the road to flag down a cab. A car pulled over almost immediately and they crawled into the back seat.  
Gerard rattled off his cross-streets and wrapped an arm around Frank to help him warm up.  
“I’m glad you came out tonight…” Frank said, leaning into Gerard.  
“I tried to catch you at work last night.” Gerard admitted, “You weren’t there.”  
“I was still getting over a cold.” Frank said, “I’ve been sick since… since I was dumb enough to walk to Jamia’s in the rain the other night.”  
There had been a certain nasally quality to Frank’s voice that Gerard had assumed was the result of drinking and smoking, but now he noticed that Frank did still sound sick sort of.  
When Gerard looked over at him he was staring out the window. He’d planned on not mentioning the other night. He was glad Frank had been the one to mention it first.  
Frank turned to look over at Gerard. Their eyes met, first. Their lips soon followed. Frank wrapped his arms around Gerard’s neck and parted his lips, greedily inviting Gerard in. This had to be some terrible breach in the promise he’d literally just made to Jamia, but he told himself he still had completely and total control over himself. He was kissing Frank because he wanted to, not because he couldn’t stop himself. Frank was infinitely drunker than Gerard, but Gerard had drank quite a lot himself. Right and wrong were sort of blurring together in an unpleasant sort of way.  
The familiarity of Frank’s mouth, of the small lusty sounds his throat produced when he was on Gerard like this, of their situation… it was everything Gerard needed. The past days of loneliness and confusion were all worth it if the end result was  _this._  
“I’ve thought about this so much.” Frank breathed, “I want you so bad.”  
Gerard silently prayed that the driver wasn’t listening to them. He’d considered himself a pretty decent person for a cab driver to have to deal with picking up on any given night since he’d moved to the city. He typically waited to get to someone’s apartment before kissing the fuck out of them. And Frank was seriously fucking with Gerard’s cab karma. He seemed intent on jumping right down Gerard’s throat.  _Literally._  
Gerard was so fucking thankful when they finally got to his apartment. He tipped the driver heftily, praying it would make up for Frank’s fucking  _mouth._  
Mouth-fucking seemed to be exactly what was on Frank’s agenda. They took the stairs up to Gerard’s apartment, saying nothing, fingers laced. Frank kissed Gerard all over as he fumbled to get the top lock on his apartment door open.  
They left the lights off as they kicked off their shoes and pulled their coats off, still kissing frantically. Or,  _trying_  to, anyways. It was hard to be graceful when they were drunk and in a hurry. Frank pulled Gerard towards the bedroom in the dark. It hurt to think that Frank had spent enough time in Gerard’s apartment to navigate it so perfectly in the dark. The thought led Gerard to thinking about how Frank should’ve been coming back to Gerard’s place tonight anyways. And every other night for that matter. That was what Gerard wanted.  
Frank was still sort of shivering as soon as they got to the bed. Gerard was trying to cover as much of his neck as possible with his mouth to get him warmer.  
“Didn’t you want to talk?” Gerard asked in between greedy kisses.  
“We can talk later, Gee, I want your fucking  _fingers._ ” Frank insisted softly, grabbing the hem of Gerard’s shirt to silently beg him to take it off.  
“Frankie-” Gerard protested, trying his best to slow them down. He was so fucking fragile. Every inch of his body was craving more of Frank, but somewhere in the back of his mind he knew they needed to slow the fuck down. He took Frank’s hands in his own so he couldn’t do any more damage to Gerard’s already fragile willpower.  
It seemed almost rude to have teased Frank this way. All Gerard had meant to do was corner him.  
And Frank was certainly cornered… lying defenselessly on his back with his hands caught in Gerard’s. Gerard had him half-pinned to the mattress, though Frank seemed to have no interest in going anywhere anyways.  
Gerard could barely see him in the darkness. A small amount of light poured in through the windows. It was just the faintest orange glow from the street lamps below, but it was enough for Gerard to make out the outlines of Frank’s face. His dark eyes. The round curve of his nose. The way his lips parted with his desperate breaths.  
“You’re so fucking good with your hands.” Frank whispered.  
“Thank you.” Gerard said, kissing the tip of Frank’s nose.  
Frank blinked at Gerard through his half-lidded eyes.  
“You said you’d been thinking…” Gerard prompted, lifting one of Frank’s hands to his mouth to press his lips against it.  
“I tend to do that...” Frank said blankly.  
“ _When we were back at the bar,_ ” Gerard reminded gently, speaking against Frank’s inked fingers, “You said you’d been  _thinking._ ”  
“I have.” Frank sighed.  
“Care to share your thoughts?” Gerard pressed.  
Frank blinked at Gerard for a moment. He was sliding his thumb over Gerard’s bottom lip, biting his own like he wasn’t sure what to say.  
“I want you to  _come back._ ” Gerard added, “I don’t want to be away from you like this anymore.”  
Gerard knew there was no use in pleading with Frank when he was this drunk. It was cowardly to admit what he wanted when they had  _both_  been drinking. Cowardly and pathetic.  
“I’m gonna throw up...” was all Frank said.  
At first he thought it was just Frank’s way of expressing distaste for Gerard’s affection, but when he really  _looked_  at Frank’s face, he saw that the punk really did look sick. He was all pale. A huge discomforted frown had spread across his face.  
Gerard helped Frank up and practically carried him to the bathroom. He sat on the cool tiles beside Frank as he leaned over the toilet and started to wretch.  
He’d mostly gotten a handle on himself now that Frank wasn’t kissing him, wasn’t begging for things Gerard was more than happy to offer. Everything felt different now that they were bathed in the warm light of the bathroom. It was too real. Too much. His ex-boyfriend wasn’t supposed to be drunk and mopey on his bathroom floor.  
Gerard could call him that now because that was what he was. A former flame. Someone he’d been with and was technically, for all intents and purposes, no longer with. An ex.  
“Why did you let me drink so much?” Frank groaned. He looked like he was about to cry.  
“ ** _I_**  didn’t let you drink anything.” Gerard pointed out, trying to hide the bitterness behind his words.  
“Oh. Right... This is all Jamia’s fault.” Frank said, wiping his mouth off on the back of his hand, “We started drinking at like… three? four? In the afternoon? Who the fuck does that?”  
“Can I get you anything?” Gerard asked sympathetically, “Glass of water?”  
“Would it be cool if I took a shower?” Frank asked hoarsely.  
Gerard nodded and wordlessly lifted himself off of the floor and turned on the shower, adjusting to what he thought might be a comfortable temperature so Frank wouldn’t have to figure it out in his miserable state.  
“I’ll go get you a towel.” Gerard said, sliding out of the bathroom and closing the door behind him.  
The apartment was dark and quiet outside of the bathroom. Gerard had adjusted to the sound of the water moving through the pipes and hitting the bottom of the bath tub. The absence of the sound felt wrong somehow. His eyes hadn’t totally adjusted to the light yet either. He grabbed a spare towel out of one of the closets in the hall and returned to the bathroom.  
Frank was already in the shower when Gerard stepped back into the bathroom. Gerard glanced at the shower curtain through its foggy reflection in the mirror. Frank’s shape was darker than it should’ve been. It didn’t add up. Gerard looked around at the tiled floor and realized he didn’t see a pile of clothes anywhere. Frank had gotten in the shower with all his clothes on.  
“Um, Frank?” Gerard asked.  
“Gerard…” Frank echoed.  
“I’m just gonna… leave this on the sink, okay?” Gerard said.  
Frank popped his head out from behind the shower curtain. His hair was dripping onto the floor. Gerard could see the soaking hem of his t-shirt.  
“Will you get in with me?” he asked.  
Gerard hesitated for a moment before pulling back the shower curtain and stepping into the tub. As soon as he was under the warm spray, Frank was wrapping himself around Gerard’s neck. It was hard to tear his focus from the sensation of his clothes leaching the moisture out of Frank’s. The wet warmth was uncomfortable at first, but as soon as Gerard’s clothes were thoroughly soaked, the feeling became neutral, secondary. The way Frank was pressed against him took precedence over the weirdness. Gerard was realistically too tired, both physically and emotionally, to pop another boner, but here he was, already half-hard all over again.  
“I thought this was what you wanted...” Frank said.  
“Thought what was what I wanted?” Gerard asked, wrapping his arms around Frank and closing his eyes.  
“I thought it might be a turn-on for you… you know, if we ran into each other randomly and I came home with you.” Frank explained, “Sort of like we were strangers or something.”  
It was in that moment that Gerard realized he’d created an entirely new monster for himself to fight, and it was one he didn’t know how to manage at all. Frank thought Gerard craved the anonymity of hooking up with strangers. Frank wanted to give Gerard that fantasy.  
“I don’t want to be with strangers, Frank.” Gerard said, “I want to be with  _you._ ”  
“Why me?” Frank slurred.  
“Because I’m  _fucking in love with you..._ ” Gerard said, hugging Frank tighter, “I…  _God, I love you so fucking much, Frank._ ”  
“Oh…” Frank mumbled, nuzzling against Gerard’s wet shirt.  
Gerard wasn’t sure why he was surprised when Frank didn’t say it back. Frank probably hadn’t even really  _heard_  him. His timing was all wrong.  
He tried to keep his cool, reminding himself that making sure Frank didn’t have fucking alcohol poisoning was more important than his own stupid feelings.  
They stayed there, holding each other under the spray in silence until the water started to run cold.  
“Stay here a minute.” Gerard commanded, leaving Frank huddled under the ever-cooling stream of water. He had only grabbed one towel before getting in, after all.  
He pulled off his wet shirt, threw it in the sink, and wrapped the one towel around his shoulders.  
A wet trail followed after Gerard as he wandered into the hall to get a second towel for Frank. When he returned to the bathroom again he heard the wet slap-thud of some piece of Frank’s clothing hitting the bottom of the tub.  
“Let me get you some dry clothes...” Gerard said, looking away as he shoved the towel into Frank’s reach behind the shower curtain. It took Frank a few painstaking seconds to grab it from Gerard.  
Gerard deserted the bathroom, and headed for his own room, quickly stripping off the rest of his wet clothes and pulling on the first clean, dry t-shirt and boxers he could find. He turned on the light so that he could dig around in his drawers to find the same attire for Frank. He pulled out his oldest, softest, most worn-in Misfits shirt.  
He was about to return to the bathroom with the dry garments when he heard the wet pitter-patter of Frank’s footsteps coming towards his room. He held his breath as Frank wandered into the room with the other towel wrapped around his waist, looking bleary-eyed and exhausted. He wordlessly crossed the room and collapsed onto Gerard’s bed.  
It was crazy to Gerard that Frank seemed so comfortable in Gerard’s space. If it had been Gerard in Frank’s space he would’ve been stiffer, more cautious. But then again, that probably had more to do with the fact that Frank had consumed more alcohol than Gerard, and he hadn’t admitted to being in love with anyone, as far as Gerard knew.  
Gerard tossed Frank the dry clothes and wandered out of the room to get Frank a glass of water. His hallway was covered in small puddles from the strange shower they’d shared. He trailed the water into the kitchen, and then back into his bedroom. By the time he returned to his room again, Frank had passed out. He was hugging the clothes Gerard had gotten out for him, instead of wearing them. He’d lazily pulled a blanket over his shoulders and curled up into a little ball.  
Gerard turned off his light and crawled into bed beside Frank, wrapping an arm around Frank’s middle to pull him closer.  
If Gerard had been lost on how to fix things before, he was certainly lost on them now. He decided he’d take Frank out for breakfast in the morning, somewhere quiet, too far north of the city for the hipsters and the socialites. Somewhere they could be alone, while Gerard explained everything. He’d tell Frank he loved him when Frank was sober enough to actually hear him. He’d lay it all out and let Frank decide.  
“No more secrets, Frankie...” Gerard promised softly, carding his fingers through Frank’s hair.  
~*~*~*~*  
  
Frank awoke to a stabbing pain in the front of his skull. His mouth was dry and he was sore all over. But it was warm and dark and soft. Too soft to be Jamia’s couch.  
For a moment he thought he  _was_  in Gerard’s room. After blinking for a couple seconds, he realized he was in Gerard’s room.  
He sat up quickly and immediately regretted it. His stomach lurched violently and his vision grew hazy. He held his breath as he glanced over, confirming that, to his horror, Gerard was fast asleep in the bed beside him.  
Frank tried to work through what he remembered of the day before as he waited for the nausea to pass. He remembered going to the party with Jamia. He remembered drinking with Jamia. He remembered the part where Jamia had spotted Gerard at the party. He remembered… kissing Gerard in the bathroom. But that was as far as his memory went. The rest, he could kind of piece together without the fine details. What other reason could there be for waking up naked in Gerard’s bed with damp hair? They had obviously hooked up. Frank had probably said a bunch of stupid shit he couldn’t take back. Gerard would probably start hating him the second he woke up.  
  
It was selfish, but Frank’s next thought was that he didn’t have to face the situation that awaited him if he didn’t want to. He slid out of the bed as quietly as possible, reaching for the t-shirt and boxers hanging off the edge of the bed. He tried not to groan at the shooting pain in his head as he tiptoed across the room. Gerard didn’t seem to stir, even as Frank slipped out the door.  
Gerard’s apartment was  _fucking cold._  Frank wrapped his arms around himself and shivered as he looked for his clothes from the night before. He found them eventually… in a sad, wet pile on the floor in the bathroom…  
Luckily, he found a bunch of his stuff in a large cardboard box by the front door. He slid into a pair of his jeans, and pulled on an old cardigan. As he went through the box, he realized it was almost everything he’d left at Gerard’s. His records were there. His notebook from work. His spare backpack.  _Everything._  
Gerard sure moved on quickly, Frank thought.  
The thought vanished immediately as soon as Frank’s eyes landed on the vase of wilting white lilies on the table by the door.  
Gerard had  _kept them._  For  ** _days._**  The petals were curled and browning. Some lay dry and shriveled on the surface of the table. The stems were leaning over the edge of the glass like they were trying to escape.  
Which, coincidentally, was exactly what Frank intended to do. He bundled up as much as possible, borrowing some sweatshirt of Gerard’s he found hanging on a hook by the door. Whatever he could find that would prevent him from freezing to death that wouldn’t require returning to Gerard’s room would have to do. He slid into his coat, thankful to find that both his wallet and his phone, though dead, were still in his pocket.  
He glanced around at the place one more time before slipping out the front door, making sure to turn the lock before closing it behind him so he couldn’t change his mind. He couldn’t shake the feeling in the back of his mind that he was forgetting something, though honestly, he got it every time he left Gerard’s.  
~  
  
It was a few hours later that Gerard woke up.  **Alone.**  
It didn’t take him long to figure out that Frank was gone. As soon as he’d done a walk-through of his apartment in search of any notes or indications that Frank meant to come back and come up empty-handed, he returned to bed.  
The t-shirt and boxers Gerard had tossed to Frank before he’d gone to sleep were missing. They weren’t in the bed anywhere. They weren’t on the floor, either.  
Gerard slid out of bed again, only to fish his cellphone out of his coat pocket on the floor by the front door, and return to the warmth of the blankets. He called Frank, not expecting to get an answer. He waited through Frank’s stupid fucking voicemail greeting with a heavy heart.  
 _“I want my fucking Misfits shirt back, asshole.”_  Gerard growled into the phone.  
And then he hung up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fml


	22. Detour

Gerard had to remind himself a thousand times that what Frank had done to him was different from what he did to the other people he’d hooked up with. Frank leaving him before morning was  _very_ different than leaving the strangers he’d followed home. Those strangers weren’t invested in him like he was invested in Frank. Leaving someone you knew was different than leaving someone you didn’t.  
He couldn’t tell if the empty feeling of despair in his chest was from the pull of the moon or from Frank, or perhaps some twisted combination of both. If he was honest, he was maybe a little hungover on top of everything. Whatever the reason, it was hard to drag himself out of bed and go into work when he felt the way he did.  
He wasn’t ready for the day to start. He’d have to de-Frank his apartment all over again as soon as he got home, and all he wanted to do after work was go home and sulk.  
He would’ve just called out but, unfortunately, he had scheduled to be out of work for an entire week in the immediate future because he had to take an unwanted extended vacation with the fucking moon. He couldn’t take any extra days. Not if he wanted to keep his job.  
Gerard hated the moon. He hated his job. He hated Frank. Mostly though, he just hated himself.  
He frowned the entire train ride to the art store. He frowned through the first half of his shift, and then preceded to frown through the second half of his shift. He even frowned through both of his cigarette breaks. He made a point to stay towards the back of the store, trying to make it look like he was busy facing the containers of paint. It needed to be done - customers were always spinning the containers around to read the contents listed on the backside of the label and leaving them that way - but there was no way that righting them would ever take several hours.  
It was difficult to not think about Frank. Not when everything reminded him of Frank. He was stuck on Frank’s notion that Gerard preferred random hookups. Gerard didn’t dislike random hookups, but he certainly didn’t prefer them to hooking up with Frank in a regular, committed sort of way. That was  _fucking ridiculous._  And  _rude._  And  _incredibly hurtful._  
As soon as Gerard was off work, he tried calling Frank, rolling his eyes and hanging up before Frank’s voicemail recording had finished playing. He shoved his phone in his pocket and took the stairs down to the subway.  
He felt himself start to break out in a sweat as soon as he had stopped to wait for the next train on the subway platform. Then came the telltale crack of pain shooting down his spine. Gerard technically had a few more days until he was supposed to change, if he was going by the calendar, but it felt as if it was going to start right then and there... on the fucking platform. Gerard didn’t question it. He usually didn’t have time to. A few seconds later the pain started to kick in. All-encompasing, mind-numbing pain. All Gerard knew was that he needed to get out of the city, and _fast._  
Luckily the train came right away. It was packed to the gills with people commuting home. He tried his best not to throw up as the motion of the train speeding uptown tossed him around. He clung tightly to a pole in the middle of the car, keeping his eyes closed and trying to breathe as little as possible.  
Gerard was used to the pain. He was used to the sweating. He was used to the twitching. All of that he could handle. But there was nothing worse than the thought of turning on a subway car with all these innocent people. Presumably they were innocent anyways. Even if they weren’t, it wasn’t Gerard’s job to rip them to shreds. And certainly, nobody deserved to suffer the life that Gerard had suffered. If he bit someone he’d never forgive himself.  
The only saving grace in this sudden horror was that, Gerard wasn’t thinking about Frank at all. He was busy calculating how quickly he could get out of the city. If he called Mikey the second he was off the train, and packed his bag while Mikey headed over, he could be out of the city before the moonrise. Mikey might have to cut him loose instead of locking him up in the basement, since they might not have time for that. The only thing worse than the thought of ripping and innocent stranger to shreds, was the thought of ripping his own brother to shreds.  
(On that note, Mikey had actually ended up face to face with the wolf on more than one occasion. Accidents happened. Locks were forgotten or there was traffic. The wolf was curious about Mikey. It would try to get as close as possible but it never growled. It never snarled it’s teeth. They assumed the wolf meant Mikey no harm, but of course, there was no reason to test it.)  
Gerard was so relieved when he made it off the train in one  _human_  piece. He ran up the steps, almost dropping his phone half a dozen times in his rush to call his brother.  
“What?” Mikey sighed into the phone.  
“Mikey, it’s starting.” Gerard said, racing down the street, “I need to get out of the city. Like, right now.”  
“The full moon isn’t for another couple of days...” Mikey pointed out.  
“But I can feel it coming.” Gerard said, “I don’t have much time.”  
“That doesn’t make any sense, Gee.” Mikey countered, “I went over the lunar calendar… I told you your symptoms would be exaggerated. Maybe it’s just-”  
“I can  _feel it,_  Mikey.” Gerard repeated, “Look, I’ll drive up myself if I have to. I know Alicia just got back from tour… Just,  _let me borrow your car.”_  
“You’re not fucking around...” Mikey commented.  
“Do I ever?” Gerard asked, “...Nevermind, please don’t answer that.”  
“Alright. I’m coming over now.” Mikey said, “I’ll call you when I’m outside. Be ready in a half hour. Answer your phone. Don’t make me come up there.”  
“Okay.” Gerard breathed, hanging up.  
He’d almost made it to his apartment over the course of the short call. He was practically running as he slid his phone back into his pocket. He wasn’t looking where he was going and very nearly avoided tackling his fifth floor neighbor as she was exiting the building. He yelled an apology over his shoulder as he bolted into the building.  
His spine protested painfully as he took the stairs two at a time. The keys slipped out of his hands as he got to his apartment door. Bending over to retrieve them hurt. Everything hurt.  
The apartment smelled like Frank, as usual, but for the first time since Frank had left him, Gerard didn’t have time to mope over it. He pulled out a duffle bag and raced around the apartment, packing things he might want or need. CDs for the car ride, DVDs in case Mikey had a hard time sleeping after Gerard was safely locked up in the basement, his sketch pad, the 99% full bottle of vodka, a few changes of clothes…  
Gerard’s phone started buzzing in his pocket. He pulled it out to find it was Mikey calling him. There was no way Mikey was there already. It was rush hour. Gerard answered the call and brought the phone to his ear nervously.  
“M-Mikey?” Gerard stammered out, spinning around, making sure everything in his apartment was turned off.  
“So….” Mikey paused to take a deep breath, “Alicia knows.”  
“She…. what?” Gerard asked, freezing in place.  
“I told her you were having an emergency… and then like, with every excuse I gave her, she still wanted to come with me.” Mikey explained, “So I… fucking told her.”  
“She’s… coming with us?” Gerard asked. That was the  _last thing_  he needed.  
“No. She’s going to stay in the city… I told her you needed space.” Mikey explained, “I just… I can’t believe I fucking told her. She’s…”  
“How do you know she believed you?” Gerard asked.  
“I just… do?” Mikey mused, “I’m sorry. I know now isn’t the time. I just… I can’t believe how easy it was, Gee.”  
“She’s not… afraid of me?” Gerard asked, wincing as another wave of pain rippled down his spine.  
“No! She thinks it’s cool.” Mikey said excitedly, “Anyways, I’ll let you get back to packing… I just… I don’t know.”  
Mikey never sounded excited, even if he was fucking ecstatic. Gerard couldn’t even think of a time in his life where he could actually just hear the happiness in Mikey’s voice. It threw him off. For a moment, he almost forgot what it was that he was supposed to be doing.  
“We’ll talk about it on the drive up, okay?” Gerard promised.  
“Yeah. Be there in like, fifteen.” Mikey said, and then he hung up.  
  
Gerard flew over to his computer in his office to check the roads. Typically they left with time to deal with traffic and construction detours, but now they didn’t have time for those things. Gerard didn’t want to leave anything up to chance. He didn’t want to hurt Mikey, and at the same time, he didn’t want to wake up, naked in the woods, somewhere between the cabin and manhattan, with no coat and no way of finding his way home. He already felt bad enough for tearing Mikey away from Alicia. He didn’t want Mikey up all night looking for him, worrying about him.  
 _Just Gerard’s fucking luck,_  there was a long construction detour on the main road they had to take, right before the beginning of the park. The cabin was on the other side of the park. They’d have to circle a small fucking  _mountain_  to get there. They’d never make it, unless they left  _a fucking hour ago._  
As Gerard was printing out the driving directions, there was a fucking knock on his door. He chose to ignore it. He was under no obligation to answer his door. He had somewhere he  _needed to be_. How did they even know if he was home? Unless they’d seen him running, they didn’t know.  
Gerard tucked the driving directions into the front of his bag and started to clean things up. If he left the trash, it would smell by the time he got back. He tied up the trash bag and sat it by the door.  
His eyes landed on Frank’s lilies. The water would start to grow mold if he didn’t pour it out. He carried the vase into his kitchen and poured the water into the sink. He tied the bouquet together with a piece of twine and thumbtacked it to the wall, next to the lightswitch. They’d be pretty once the dried. He’d find an artistic use for them once the full moon was over. For now, he had bigger things to deal with.  
There was another knock at the door. Gerard almost jumped out of his skin. He wanted to kill whoever was on the other side of the door. Whoever it was knew he was home and he hated them for it.  
And  _oh God._  The universe was punishing him. Gerard knew it was Frank before he opened the door. He could  _smell_  him.  
He pulled the door open, bringing himself face to face with the monster he’d created.  
Frank was pale and puffy eyed. Dark circles rimmed his eyes. His hair was a mess.  
“Um, I brought a peace offering.” Frank said, holding up Gerard’s misfits shirt.  
“Frank, I really can’t talk right now.” Gerard said, trying not to literally growl at the small punk.  
“Don’t even.” Frank scoffed, pushing his way into Gerard’s apartment.  
“Seriously, Frank, you can’t be here right now.” Gerard protested.  _I’ll eat you up,_  he didn’t add.  
“Look, if this is about last night…” Frank started, “I don’t remember anything. I need you to fill in the blanks.”  
“I would love to… but I’m actually on my way out.” Gerard said, taking a step back, putting distance between them.  
His spine twitched painfully, and it took everything out of Gerard to not let it show in his face.  
Frank looked down at Gerard’s bag on the floor. He took in the bag of trash next to it, the absence of the vase of flowers, the way Gerard was all bundled up.  
“You’re… leaving.” Frank commented, “Like, actually leaving. The city. Is this because of me? Gerard if we hooked up… If we  _fought_ … I just… I don’t know what happened. You can’t just-”  
“Why does it even matter to you?” Gerard interrupted, “What happened last night was a random blip in a clear pattern. When I woke up this morning I was still the same person you don’t fucking have time for.”  
“Gerard, that’s not fair.” Frank argued, “I don’t-”  
“No.” Gerard said shaking his head, “You can’t tell me you care, Frank. Because you don’t. Please just get the fuck out of my apartment before I fucking  _ **hurt you.**_ ”  
“Before you  _what?_ ” Frank gasped. The shock curled his lips into a scared frown.  
“Look, I didn’t mean it like that-” Gerard said trying to backtrack.  
“What’s going on with you, Gerard?” Frank asked, voice wavering, “You’d never lay a hand on me. I know you wouldn’t… ”  
Frank tried to reach out to touch Gerard’s arm and Gerard recoiled violently.  
“I’m just not feeling well. I need to get away from here… I need to be alone.” Gerard offered, clutching his arm where Frank had almost touched him, as though it burned. He knew Frank wasn’t buying his excuse but he prayed it was enough to satiate the punk’s sudden curiosity.  
“Are you going to the cabin?” Frank asked.  
“Yes.” Gerard said. He didn’t even have time to come up with a lie.  
“Take me with you.” Frank insisted.  
“No.” Gerard said firmly, trying again to not growl at Frank.  
“Why not?” Frank asked, taking a step towards the monster of a man, “What could be  _so bad_ , Gerard?”  
“I’ll explain everything when I get back.” Gerard promised, taking another step back, “Please, I have to go.”  
“I’m coming with you.” Frank argued.  
 **“You can’t come with me.”**  Gerard said, slowly enunciating every word.  
“Then just tell me  _why._ ” Frank pleaded, “Please,Gerard. Where do you  _go_  every month?”  
“You don’t have time for this.” Gerard promised, picking up his bag and inching towards the door.  
“You can’t just decide that for me.” Frank scoffed.  
“You’re already decided, Frank!” Gerard yelled, “You made your decision last week. You don’t have time for a fuck and run like me, remember?”  
Frank just gawked at Gerard then. This was for the best, Gerard tried to remind himself. That look on Frank’s face was the only way to protect him. Pushing Frank away was the only way to keep him safe from the wolf.  
“You can stay here, if you want.” Gerard said, “I won’t be here for the next week. My home is yours… Just check my mail. I hate the way the mailman stuffs the envelopes in there when I’m not around to get them out. The key to the mailbox is in the kitchen, next to the oven mitts...”  
Gerard’s phone started buzzing in his pocket, he quickly pulled it out and answered it.  
“I’m outside. What the fuck, Gerard?” Mikey groaned as soon as Gerard accepted the call.  
“We have to take a detour off 87. There’s construction.” Gerard said, “I had to print directions...”  
Gerard eyed Frank as he said it. Frank was still giving him this hopeless hurt look, which was totally unfair. Frank probably knew what it was doing to Gerard.  
“Well that’s fucking terrific. Get the fuck down here.” Mikey said, hanging up.  
“I really have to fucking go, Frank.” Gerard said, sliding his phone back in his pocket, “Mikey’s waiting downstairs.”  
“Fine.” Frank sighed.  
“I promise I will make this right.” Gerard said softly, “When you have the time…”  
Frank bit his lip and nodded, crossing his arms as he continued to give Gerard that helpless look.  
Gerard backed out of his apartment, returning Frank’s stare for another moment as his door slowly swung closed. And then he was dashing down the stairs, headed for Mikey’s car.  
  
Frank stood in Gerard’s apartment alone. He eyed the bag of trash that Gerard had left by the door and made a note to take it out. He saw that the flowers were gone. It hurt to think that Gerard had given up on them, but he supposed he deserved it.  
Frank wandered into Gerard’s room and sat down on the edge of the bed. He was still shaking from the way Gerard had yelled at him. From the way Gerard had  _threatened_  him.  
He knew he was a bad judge of character. He always had been. But even so, he’d never expected Gerard to threaten him physically, and it had him wondering if all the good he saw in Gerard was just to cover up all the bad he  _knew_  was there.  
Something wasn’t sitting right with him, though. Gerard didn’t usually raise his voice. Gerard didn’t get angry with Frank, not like this. There had to be a reason… Something deeper going on…  
It was then that a thought struck him.  
Frank was going to get to the bottom of this. Once and for all.  
He got up and headed for Gerard’s computer to find that the driving directions were still up on the screen. Heart pounding, Frank hit the ‘print’ button. He took a deep, satisfied breath as he heard Gerard’s printer whir to life, slowly but surely, giving Frank everything he needed to end this. _Tonight._  
He fished his phone out of his pocket and found Jamia’s number in his phone.  
“Frank?” she answered, “Why are you calling me? I thought you were going to see Gerard.”  
“Yeah. I am. Um, listen, J...” Frank said, hesitating for a moment.  
“Is everything okay?” Jamia asked worriedly.  
“Everything’s fine.” Frank assured, “But I need a favor.”  
“Oh boy.” Jamia sighed, “What is it? Hit me.”  
“I need to borrow your car.” Frank said.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come on daaaaaaaaaaad gimmme tha car tonight! -VF


	23. Hair Of The Dog

 

Frank promised Jamia that he’d bring her car back in one piece, with a full tank of gas and no scratches or dings, but when he told her he was driving to the mountains by himself in the dark in the dead of winter, she didn’t look happy. She’d made him take a sleeping bag capable of withstanding negative temperatures and showed him where she kept the snow chains. She’d even tried to convince him not to go, but in the end her curiosity won her over. She probably would’ve even gone with if it weren’t for the important meeting she couldn’t cancel the next morning.  
Getting out of the city was hell. The stuffy bumper to bumper traffic was just like it always was. Jamia’s car had a fucking tape player in it which sort of helped to pass the dragging time, but it appeared as though she’d been in a deep Madonna phase lately because every tape Frank’s fingers landed on was fucking  _Madonna._  Frank liked Madonna as much as the next guy but after two tapes, he’d had enough. It wasn’t Madonna’s fault. He was probably too anxious to enjoy any music.  
  
The driving directions weren’t helping. The print-out said that his destination was just over three hours away from the city. From the small, blurry black and white map in the corner of the page, Frank had figured out that the cabin was just west of the Catskills. He felt less sure he was going the right way every time he squinted at the tiny map by the light of the dashboard. He followed the directions line for line, but he was still nervous about getting something wrong. One wrong turn could send him halfway to the state capital, instead of safely tucked away in Gerard’s arms.  
Frank stopped at a gas station as soon as he’d pulled off what he prayed was the right exit. He bought an energy drink, a cup of coffee and a more substantial map. He asked the attendant for directions as he slammed down the energy drink. The guy wasn’t much more help than the listed directions. He confirmed that the detour Frank was about to take was better because of the construction a few miles up the highway. It was nice to have the reassurance nonetheless, especially since he’d been on the road for two hours as it was.  
He quickly made his way back to the car and got back on the road. Gerard and Mikey had gotten an hour head start on him, so he had to try and catch up as much as possible. As soon as he had his coffee safely nestled in a cup holder, certain it wouldn’t spill on Jamia’s immaculate interior, he was speeding off into the dark.  
Dark, because the street lights ended pretty quickly. Frank found himself alone, curving through the forest much faster than he probably should’ve been driving. He didn’t have a death wish, he was just feeling lucky… which, when he thought about it, might’ve really been the same as a deathwish.  
The engine purred loudly as the car began to ascend into the hills. The evergreen pine-needles illuminated by the car's headlights were a welcome contrast to Frank's usual interaction with nature. Back in New York all the leaves had fallen off the trees months ago. There were a few pines in central park, but Frank couldn't remember the last time he'd seen plantlife like that which now surrounded him. He felt small and free as he flew along the black concrete.  
The road began to descend again, and Frank was deposited into a sea of campgrounds, cabins and bicycle rental shops, all closed for the season. According to the directions, he was still a ways from his destination, but he could feel himself getting closer. He’d broken into cabin territory, at least. He passed a few gas stations. The eyes of a dog being walked by it’s owner flashed in the car’s headlights. The world gave him little reminders that he wasn’t going somewhere he’d be completely alone. He wasn’t descending into total madness.  
The road curved around a black lake. Frank saw the signs warning to watch for black ice, but he didn’t really absorb their warning. He was too blown away by the beauty of the landscape. He quickly glanced over and saw the lights of a small boat floating out in the middle. When he glanced up, he could see the stars over the mountains. He made a note to get a better look at them when he wasn’t driving, if he could remember.  
He wasn’t sure if he’d ever been so scared in his life. He didn’t know what awaited him at the end of the directions, he just knew he had to get there. When it came to what he had with Gerard, he’d always been the one to drag his feet. He’d always been the one to slow things down, to criticize and judge and scrutinize. He couldn’t let himself be happy if there was any chance it was conditional. He couldn’t let Gerard be happy if he wasn’t happy.  
Frank’s doubt in Gerard had come from a legitimate place at first, but it was like Jamia said, Frank couldn’t punish Gerard forever. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t  _right._  
He’d tried to push Gerard away out of curiosity. He needed to know what his life would look like without Gerard in it and it had only taken a few days for Frank to realize that he didn’t like it one bit. He wanted Gerard around, in whatever capacity he could have him, for the foreseeable future.  
That was what he’d gone over to Gerard’s place to say. He couldn’t get the image of Gerard’s pained confusion from the other night, outside that stupid restaurant, out of his head. He wanted to take all that confusion away. He’d say whatever he had to say until he knew Gerard was sure that Frank was in this too. And Frank was so sorry. He’d never been as sorry as he was.  
And that was why he’d driven so far. Those words still needed to be said.  
He’d say them in front of an entire satanic cult if he needed to.  
  
The cabin was tucked away on a hillside. The moonlight bounced off the fields of snow, crusted over with a layer of shiny ice. The houses were all connected by a long, straight road, leading up the hill and back into the forest.  
Frank drove a little slower then. Not because of the ice on the untraveled road, but so he could read the house numbers as the car climbed the hill. Most of the houses were dark. There was a car sitting outside of one of them, but it wasn’t Mikey’s car so Frank kept on driving.  
The satanic cult thing seemed less and less likely the further he went. Either Frank had gotten the directions completely wrong or there was almost no one else out there.  
  
Mikey’s car was parked outside of the very last house at the very top of the hill. The treeline cast half of the structure in darkness. The windows were dark, but the brightly shining security light off the side of the house was all the confirmation Frank needed. He glanced at the clock on the dash before killing the engine. It was just after 10pm. He’d made good time.  
He opened the driver’s side door, wincing at how loud the sound was in the stillness of the wilderness. The cold crept into the car almost immediately. Frank shivered as he pulled on the overcoat that had been riding in the passenger seat for the duration of the drive.  
Frank pulled out his phone to try and call Gerard, only to find that he had no cell reception. Gerard hadn’t been making that part up. He sighed and checked his pockets for the car keys twice before closing the car door. The last thing he needed was to be locked out in the woods with no reception.  
Frank buttoned his coat all the way to the top and still found himself shivering. It was much colder than he realized it would be. Freezing winds were swirling down the hill.  
There was something terrifying about the absolutely stillness of winter. Nothing was moving. Nothing appeared to be living or breathing. Everything was bathed in cold, white moonlight. The pale made the shadows seem darker,  _fuller._  
Frank took a few shaky steps towards the house and froze. He hadn’t realized how nervous he was. He went over the words he needed to say in his head a few times before taking another step forward. Once he was moving again, the freezing air inspired him to keep going. He slowly made his way up the steps and into the shadows of the front porch. He felt safer once he wasn’t in plain view, if only marginally.  
  
It was then that Frank heard the crunch of snow behind him. He startled and turned in search of the noise. To his immediately horror, he found himself in the presence of a large, black wolf, stalking towards him. The creature’s yellow eyes glowed brightly in the moonlight. It’s gaze was fixed on Frank. It’s head hung low as it made it’s way towards him.  
_“Fuck.”_  Frank breathed.  
Frank kept his eyes on the creature as he tried the doorknob.  _Of course_  it was locked. He glanced around for another door or a window or something he could work with, but there was nothing. There was nowhere to run. The wolf was too close for him to make it back to the car. He stayed frozen in place as the creature inched towards him.  
This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. Frank wasn’t supposed to die of an animal attack in the dead of winter. He was supposed to find Gerard and fix things and...  
Suddenly the monster wasn’t inching anymore, it was coming at Frank at  _lightning speed._  
Frank didn’t know what the fuck to do so he screamed.  
“Let me in!” He yelled, banging his fist against the door.  
**“Anyone!”**  He tried, “Please!  _Help me!”_  
He could hear his own voice echoing across the field of ice, through the woods. He felt nothing but numbing despair as the creature leapt up onto the porch in front of him and paused, eyeing him curiously. It lifted it’s head to catch a waft of Frank’s sent. It was close enough that Frank could see its nostrils flaring. It let out a fearsome growl as it took another step towards him.  
“Mikey! Hey! Is anyone in there?!” Frank called out, flattening himself against the door.  
Frank’s heart was beating in his ears. He’d learned what he was supposed to do if he ran into a wolf back when he was a boy scout, but none of the practicalities were coming to him.  
“MIkey!” Frank tried again, “ ** _Gerard!?_**  Anyone?”  
  
The creature made a pained noise. It’s cries were followed by a series of sickening snaps. The creature lowered itself onto the wood and began to contort. High pitched whines erupted from its chest as it started to lose its shape. Frank thought it might’ve been shot until he saw the fur begin to recede, giving way to pale, blood-splattered skin. It’s eyes closed. It’s sounds grew more and more human until they weren’t whines, they were  _gasps._  
Frank simply blinked, and the rest of the transition took place in the millisecond his eyes were closed. There was no longer a wolf lying before him. It was a  _person._  
Frank sunk to his knees. He was too confused, too thankful to have dodged a most violent death to question whateverthefuck he had just been witness to.  
He thought the person might be dead, given the clots of blood and matted hair stuck to the skin all over but then they were moving, curling in on themself.  
It was then that the door opened behind Frank. He was too terrified to move.  
“What the fuck?” a familiar asked voice.  
His adrenaline was crashing. Frank couldn’t place the voice. His heart was still beating wildly in his ears.  
“Frank?” The voice asked, “How the fuck did you even- nevermind…”  
Frank continued to stare at the wilted, naked form before him.  
He was covered in blood, but Frank would’ve recognized Gerard anywhere.  
“Gerard, why  **the fuck**  are you-” Mikey tried to ask.  
“I don’t know what the fuck is  _happening.”_  Gerard moaned, trying to lift himself up. His voice was guttural and wrecked.  
Mikey stepped around Frank and hung a coat over Gerard’s shoulders.  
“Let’s get inside.” Mikey said. His voice sounded far away.  
“What is Frank doing here?” Gerard breathed,  _“Am I dead?”_  
“I don’t think so.” Mikey tutted, helping his brother up.  
“Am I…  _dreaming?”_  Gerard panted, wincing as he took a step forward, “The moon’s still out… why the fuck am I-?”  
Frank tried to lift himself up and stumbled backwards, onto the threshold of the front door.  
“Let’s just get inside.” Mikey groaned, “I’d like to figure this out somewhere that isn’t  _negative four degrees._ ”  
“Mikey, the moon’s still out… why the fuck did I change back?” Gerard asked again, panic in his voice, “And why the fuck is Frank here?”  
“I don’t  _know_ , Gerard. Go inside so I can help him.” Mikey urged, “We’re letting all the heat out.”  
Gerard nodded and tiptoed towards the door.  
“Frank, can you hear me?” Mikey asked, kneeling in front of Frank and staring back and forth into Frank’s eyes, “I think he’s in shock. Did he see you change?”  
“I don’t know.” Gerard said, wiping a bloody matt off his cheek.  
“This is so annoying.” Mikey muttered, standing up and curling his hands under Frank’s armpits to drag him into the house.  
Frank remembered himself enough to try and move his legs but he only seemed to be making it harder for Mikey.  
“Hi, Frank.” Mikey huffed, as he muscled the small punk into the cabin, “So I don’t know if you can process anything I’m telling you right now, but Gerard’s a werewolf. You better not be mad at me for not telling you. I’ve been begging Gerard to tell you for  _months..._ ”  
Mikey helped Frank up as he spoke and directed him into what appeared to be a den. A roaring fire was tucked into a fireplace against the far wall. Two comfortable-looking couches faced each other, separated by a coffee table. Mikey’s laptop sat on top of the table. The faint sound of music leaked out of the headphones resting on the keyboard.  
Mikey pushed Frank onto one of the couches and turned to Gerard, who was busy re-locking the locks on the cabin’s front door.  
“Do I need to lock you up?” Mikey asked, “Do you feel like you’re going to change again?”  
“No?” Gerard offered hesitantly, rubbing at a streak of dried blood on his chest, “I actually feel… fine?”  
“Alright… well go get yourself cleaned up. There’s a lot of blood. I think you’re scaring him... ” Mikey sighed, “I’ll deal with Frank in the meantime. If you think you’re going to change back, yell for me, okay?”  
Gerard nodded and disappeared around a wall, vanishing from Frank’s sight.  
“I have no idea how the fuck you found this place.” Mikey said, turning back towards Frank. He seemed to mostly be talking to himself as he bent over his laptop to pause the music and close it.  
“Can I get you anything?” Mikey asked, “Coffee? Beer?”  
“Coffee and beer.” Mikey nodded when Frank didn’t say anything.  
“Wait.” Frank said hoarsely as Mikey turned to walk out of the room, “I don’t want to be… alone right now.”  
“Strange request.” Mikey mumbled, dropping onto the couch across from Frank.  
Frank swallowed hard and tried to blink.  
“I’m sorry you had to find out like this.” Mikey said, pulling off his glasses to clean the lenses on the bottom of his shirt. The apology seemed genuine, at least, “I’ll answer as many questions as I can… but this is really something Gerard should explain to you.”  
Frank nodded to relay that he understood.  
“I need to find out why he changed back. He wasn’t supposed to change back for… hours.” Mikey explained, “I cut him loose at the edge of the park because we didn’t have time to get him here. I don’t even know how he found his way back so quickly…”  
Mikey slid his glasses back on and opened his laptop again. He started typing immediately, eyes pouring over the screen.  
“Gerard’s a…” Frank tried. He couldn’t finish the sentence. The word felt too foreign in his mouth.  
“Yes.” Mikey agreed casually.  
“You  _ **help**_  him.” Frank commented, letting the details fall into place. Mikey disappeared for the same number of days every month to help his brother. He’d been doing it since Frank had started working at the label at least, which was years ago...  
“I’m the only one who will.” Mikey nodded.  
“The growling.” Frank swallowed.  
“He growls.” Mikey echoed.  
“The… healing?” Frank asked.  
Mikey nodded again.  
“The…  _temper._ ” Frank realized.  
“Yes. There is  _that._ ” Mikey offered hesitantly, “He’s usually pretty good about it… but I think he can’t help it sometimes.”  
“Oh my God.” Frank breathed.  
“God has nothing to do with this.” Mikey shrugged, “At least, I don’t think so…”  
“It’s just a manor of speaking,” Frank argued, “I didn’t mean-”  
“Well, you seem back to normal enough.” Mikey said, “Coffee or beer?”  
“B- Coffee.” Frank said.  
“ _Both,_  then.” Mikey said, furrowing his brow and sliding off the couch to retrieve Frank a drink. It was then that Frank realized Mikey wasn’t asking out of politeness, but more to get away from the situation he’d been handed. If Frank’s mind had been functioning, he might’ve felt sorry for Mikey. This was really between Gerard and Frank… Only, Mikey was the reason Frank and Gerard were even speaking to one another. They probably wouldn’t have ever seen each other again if Mikey hadn’t set them up. What kind of asshole set their coworker up with a fucking werewolf? That was just asking for trouble.  
Mikey returned with a mug and a bottle. He set them on the table in front of Frank and returned to his seat on the couch across from Frank.  
“You knew.” Frank said.  
“Knew?” Mikey asked innocently  
“You set me up with him and  _you knew._ ” Frank elaborated.  
“You said you liked dogs?” Mikey replied easily.  
“Domesticated  _house pets_ , Mikey.” Frank said, enunciating each word slowly, “Not-  **Not-** ”  
Frank closed his mouth when Gerard wandered back into the room with a towel draped around his shoulders. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, just a pair of black jeans. Frank could still see fading marks all over his skin where the matts of blood had been. He squeezed at his dripping wet hair with one end of the towel as he crossed the room and dropped onto the couch beside Mikey.  
Frank was almost offended Gerard didn’t sit next to him, as afraid as he was. He was still a little too spaced out, trying to wrap his head around the fact that he’d just watched the same person transition from a four-legged beast into…  _whatever he was now_ , to say anything about it. Gerard wouldn’t even look at Frank, which he didn’t know how to take. And the worst part was that he didn’t even know where the fight they’d had earlier factored into everything now.  
They both seemed so comfortable with their situation. Mikey wasn’t even  _looking_  at Gerard. He was clearly used to Gerard being like this. Frank supposed they’d had a lot more time to adjust to it than he had. Even so, he envied the easiness with which they carried themselves.  
“So…” Mikey said, dramatically hitting the backspace button on his keyboard over and over.  
Frank’s gaze shifted between Mikey and Gerard. Gerard leaned closer to Mikey to glance at whatever was on the computer screen. Their brows were both furrowed in concentration as they read. The mannerism was eerily similar. Frank had always thought of it as a Gerard thing, but now he realized it was a  _Way thing._  
“Frank,” Mikey said, glancing up from the screen, and clearing his throat, “Can you explain to me what happened, as you saw it?”  
“Um…” Frank faltered.  
Gerard’s gaze finally met Frank’s. Only Gerard’s eyes weren’t his eyes. When he tilted his head at a certain angle, they were the same eerie yellow color Frank had seen outside of the cabin. Frank had to hold his breath as they stared at one another. They  _were_  Gerard’s eyes, Frank realized. Because Gerard was a fucking... He dropped his gaze to his hands, folded in his lap, and tried again.  
“There was a w-  _thing._ ” Frank said, he still couldn’t used the word, “You know what it looks like, I’m sure. Big and black, piercing  _yellow eyes_ … It came after me. I didn’t see it until it was right behind me. And then… I don’t know. I was yelling for you guys and it just…  _dropped to the ground._  It was crying a lot and then it just…  _changed_ … right in front of me me. And then there was  _Gerard_...”  
“Do you remember if you said Gerard’s name?” Mikey asked.  
“Um…  _What?_ ” Frank asked.  
“Did you call Gerard by name?” Mikey repeated.  
“I don’t remember. Maybe I did?” Frank said, biting his lip, “It’s all kind of a blur now…”  
“It’s not well sourced, but…” Mikey said, pausing to sigh, “I found something here that suggests that if you’re in love, your name is like, an unwinding spell. If your true love uses your name… you’ll  _turn back_. But that’s only if they love you back... It's all sort of vague, and if I'm going to accept it as rational, there's some other messed up stuff that comes alone with it..”  
Mikey kept talking but Frank wasn't listening anymore. It felt like Mikey had sucked all the air out of the fucking room. Maybe the situation was just taking it’s toll on Frank because he suddenly felt dizzy and light.  
“Shit. Oops. You guys aren’t using the  _L-word_  yet, are you?” Mikey asked sheepishly.  
“Um…” Frank mumbled.  
“I didn’t meant to…” Mikey paused, “Well,  _ **fuck.**_  You know what? I’m gonna keep reading and uh… let you two  _talk._ ”  
With that, Mikey lifted himself off the couch, laptop in one hand, beer in the other, and walked out of the room.  
“Gerard, yell for me if you think you’re going to change again!” Mikey called from somewhere in the house, “I just had the upholstery updated in there! I can’t have your boyfriend bleeding on everything.”  
Frank winced at Mikey’s nonchalant suggestion that Gerard might tear him to shreds after all. Then again, it might’ve been his nonchalant use of the word  _‘boyfriend.’_  
They were both silent. Frank still couldn’t breathe. He wasn’t Gerard’s boyfriend. Gerard didn’t love him. At least, not where they’d left things back in the city. This was all so much, so fast.  
“When were you planning on telling me?” Frank found himself asking, “Were you  _ **ever**_  going to fucking tell me?”  
“I know you’re probably upset...” Gerard said softly.  
“Upset?” Frank laughed bitterly, “I’m fucking  _furious.”_  
Frank slid off the couch and maneuvered around the coffee table, to stand in front of Gerard. When Gerard looked up at him his eyes were pale yellow again. He blinked and the strange color was gone. It was totally fucking freaky. Frank nearly choked on the air.  
“I didn’t know how to tell you Frank.” Gerard said, “I thought you’d be, well…  _fucking furious.”_  
“I’m not talking about that.” Frank scoffed, sitting beside Gerard on the couch, “How long have you been in love with me? Are you…  _really?_  Cause If you’re not I’m going to fucking-”  
“Oh, no, I definitely I am.” Gerard interrupted, with a small, firm nod.  
_“Well, good.”_  Frank said, leaning in to try and kiss Gerard. Gerard quickly snapped his face away from Frank.  
“Frank, no. You need to stay the fuck away from me.” Gerard said firmly, clamping his hands on Frank’s shoulders to hold him back, “I don’t know how contagious it is right now. I mean, I brushed my teeth but the virus is… well it’s in my mouth.”  
“Do I look like I fucking care?” Frank snapped.  
“Well, no. But you really,  _really_  should.” Gerard countered with a humorless laugh.  
“I’m in love with you, too.” Frank said evenly.  
“You are?” Gerard asked.  
“Mmmhmm.” Frank nodded, trying to lean forward again.  
This time Gerard let him. Gerard wrapped his arms around Frank as they kissed, slowly, gently, meaningfully.  
“Love you so much.” Gerard mumbled in between kisses.  
“Love you too.” Frank breathed.  
Frank could feel the warmth radiating off of Gerard. He wanted to be closer. He wanted to curl up in Gerard’s arms and lay quietly until his hungover brain could process everything that had happened. He didn’t know if they had time for that. His brain was still overloaded with questions.  
“Shit! Guys!” Mikey called from somewhere down the hallway, “Hang on a sec!”  
Frank was too busy relishing in Gerard’s fingers softly caressing the back of his neck to pull away. He didn’t care if his coworker saw him like this, he was  _in love._  He was allowed to be gross.  
“Guys, whatever you do, don’t…” Mikey paused as he stepped into the room, “Ew…  _Kiss._ ”  
Frank unwillingly pulled his lips away from Gerard’s and curled up against the wolfish man’s side.  
“Nevermind, I guess?” Mikey sighed, frowning at his laptop screen, “Too late now.”  
“What is it?” Gerard asked.  
“It’s that whole thing about your name, Gee...” Mikey said, squinting at his computer, “If it’s legit, which it must be to some extent, if you were able to transition back into a human under the full moon, right? I just read that if you guys like,  _seal the deal,_  so to speak…  _Ew._  Fuckin shit.  ** _Ew._**.. Basically there’s a good chance you’re stuck with Frank now.”  
_“Stuck with him?”_  Gerard asked.  
“I’ll have to read more… as much as I don’t want to.” Mikey sighed, “But you guys have already fucked it up anyways. So  _nevermind_  for now.”  
Mikey turned to leave the room again.  
“If you guys are gonna do that could you just…  _not_  do it on the new upholstery? There’s plenty of other rooms in this house.” Mikey mumbled over his shoulder.  
Frank’s lips were on Gerard’s as soon as he was sure Mikey had left the room.  
Frank pressed himself into the warmth radiating off of Gerard. He wanted to be closer. He wanted to curl up in Gerard’s arms and lay somewhere quiet until his hungover brain could process everything that had happened.  
“Wait, I’ve decided I’m offended.” Gerard said, pulling back.  
“Offended...” Frank repeated lazily.  
“You watched me change from a wolf into… well, me. No questions. But Mikey suggests I’m in love with you and you  _flip your shit?_ ” Gerard asked, raising an eyebrow, “You find the existence of werewolves more possible than… than...”  
Frank shrugged. He got why Gerard was pretending to be mad, but he’d brought it on himself.  
“What happened outside feels like an abstract nightmare. I’m sure I’ll be mad when I have the energy.” Frank offered.  
“Well… Good.” Gerard huffed.  
“Good.” Frank agreed, burying his face in the warm crook of Gerard’s neck.  
“Do you want to um, go somewhere and talk?” Gerard asked.  
“I, um, really need to find some way to tell Jamia I didn’t crash her car into a ravine on my way up here, first.” Frank said, “Because I have no cell reception… But after that…”  
“Um, doesn’t Mikey have Jamia’s e-mail address?” Gerard asked, “We could have him email her?”  
“Yeah. That would work.” Frank nodded, “She’ll give me shit for it on Monday, but… that’s okay I guess? She was probably gonna give me shit anyways.”  
“How the fuck  _did_  you get here anyways?” Gerard asked, “It’s not exactly easy to find.”  
“You made it easy. All I had to do was hit ‘print.’” Frank said, pulling back to smirk at Gerard.  
“Oh  _fuck._ ” Gerard hissed, “I can’t do anything right, Frank. Why the fuck do you like me?”  
“I wish I knew.” Frank sighed sarcastically, rolling his eyes.  
Gerard pouted, frowning at Frank. His eyes flashed their pale yellow color when the light hit them, making Frank’s heart skip an anxious beat. Frank would be a liar if he said he wasn’t a unnerved by it.  
“Wait here.” Gerard said, “I’ll go tell Mikey to e-mail Jamia and then we can get you to bed.”  
“Alright…” Frank nodded, unexcited when Gerard got up and slipped out of the room.  
He leaned off of the couch and reached for the beer Mikey had gotten him before and took a sip. It sort of made him nauseous, bringing reminders of the way his head had felt when he’d woken up that morning, but at the same time, the familiarity was comforting. It was the hair of the dog that bit him, as the saying went. Frank couldn’t help but think of how fitting the saying was.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you think this fic is over now you're DEAD WRONG


	24. Pale Yellow

Gerard slid onto the stool next to Mikey in the small, warm kitchen. The younger Way was busy scrolling through a scan of some sort on his laptop. The text on the pages looked old and faded. It was hard to tell how much of it was due to the image quality and how much of it was due to the condition of the original work… not that Gerard actually cared too much about these things. Mikey had always been the one to do the complicated research.  
It wasn’t as though Gerard had left it all up to Mikey, though. Mikey had just been in college when Gerard had been bitten. He’d had all kinds of library collections and databases at his fingertips. And as time went on, Mikey simply understood more about Gerard’s condition than Gerard did. And he was always learning more. It made sense to leave the research up to Mikey. Most of the time, he already knew where to look.  
Mikey’s databases came in handy all the time. Especially in moments like these, where Gerard had dug himself into some strange situation he may or may be able to find his own way out of. The situation in question was still sitting in the other room with a beer in his hand, presumably. Unless Frank had taken off running. And if he had, neither Mikey, nor Gerard, could blame him.  
That said, neither of them wanted to chase Frank through the cold to make sure he didn’t die of exposure, so Gerard made a point to make their conversation quick. He avoided Mikey’s gaze, not wanting to see the brotherly judgement he knew was residing in his eyes.  
“Can you e-mail Jamia and just let her know that both um...  _Frank_  and her car are in one piece?” Gerard asked softly.  
“Barely.” Mikey scoffed, minimizing the scan he’d been reading and opening his e-mail.  
Gerard pretended to ignore his brother’s comment as he watched him draft up a message for Jamia. He called her ‘J’ and referred to Frank as ‘Frankie.’ Gerard might’ve asked more about their office nicknames if he wasn’t so distracted.  
“He seems to be taking it well.” Gerard commented softly, picking at a loose fiber on his jeans, leaning towards Mikey so that his voice wouldn’t carry far.  
Gerard looked up at Mikey when he let out a small incredulous breath of a laugh. He was just blinking helplessly at his older brother, shaking his head.  
“What?” Gerard asked defensively, “It could be worse...”  
“You’re right, it could be.” Mikey agreed, rolling his eyes. He lifted a hand in the direction of the den, “But you can’t call  _ **that**  taking it well_. Put him in front of the wolf again and tell me he’s ‘taking it well.’”  
“I’m never going to let him near it.” Gerard promised solemnly, more to himself than to Mikey, “Not _ever_  again.”  
“That’s a nice thought.” Mikey offered sarcastically, “But let’s be fucking realistic. You’re putting him right in front of it right this very second, aren’t you? Couldn’t you hypothetically change back at any minute? I still have no idea why you haven’t already, Gerard...”  
“It… doesn’t feel like I’m going to?” Gerard mused, still puzzled.  
“Well, that’s beside the point.” Mikey argued.  
“Is it?” Gerard asked, “Mikey… maybe… maybe there’s a cure? Or a way to control it? You’ve read about that, what? Hundreds of times? Maybe it’s right under our noses? Maybe I just haven’t tapped into it yet?”  
“Don’t get your hopes up like that.” Mikey sighed, tired eyes roaming sympathetically over his older brother, “Not before I’ve done the research.”  
“Research. Right.” Gerard echoed, “What the fuck was that thing about...  _love?”_  
“It’s an old text. Something about false wolves and an old witch’s curse.” Mikey shrugged, “It’s written like a fucking fairytale so I don’t know how credible it is. I’ll have to cross-reference it with another text I have on the origins of lycanthropy that suggests different types of mutations… But that’s got a lot of big sciencey words I don’t know about genetics and shit. It might take me awhile to read.”  
“Well, should I…?” Gerard trailed off, taking a step towards the den. Frank’s smell was driving him crazy. He was anxious to return to his terrified mess of an un-boyfriend.  
“Go...  _take care of him._ ” Mikey grimaced, “But my advice? Give him some  _space._  He needs to process this by himself. And with  _the curse_ … I don’t know what we’re dealing with here. You might’ve already fucked that up by kissing him. Kissing was like third base when this shit was written, after all. But who knows? I just skimmed over a low-res scan of the documents...”  
“Right.” Gerard nodded, to make sure Mikey knew he was still listening.  
“I’m a little concerned because there was a clause in there about you getting stuck...” Mikey added.  
“Stuck?” Gerard asked.  
“Yeah.  _Stuck._ ” Mikey nodded, “As a wolf.  _Forever._  If you take a human life.”  
“Oh…” Gerard breathed.  
“Yeah.” Mikey agreed,  _“Oh.”_  
“ _Shit._ ” Gerard commented, feeling his chest tighten. The thought was overwhelming to say the least.  
“Just be careful.” Mikey cautioned, waving Gerard off, “Don’t... I don’t even know. Don’t do anything monumentally more stupid than what you’ve already done… like,  _kill him._  Jamia officially knows he’s here. There’s an information trail now, timelines,  _et cetera._ ”  
Gerard watched as Mikey clicked ‘send’ on the e-mail to Jamia. He chose to pretend he hadn’t heard the part about killing Frank. He was still pretty traumatized by the idea that he had almost already done exactly that.  
“I’m not helping you hide a body. I’ve already covered up enough.” Mikey said evenly. He didn’t even sound like he was joking either and it sort of freaked Gerard out.  
“If I feel myself turning I’ll head for the basement.” Gerard promised, sliding off the stool.  
“I really want to put headphones on… but I guess I’ll keep one off.” Mikey said, “Yell for me if you need…  _anything,_  I guess?”  
Gerard nodded solemnly, leaning in to hug his brother goodnight. It was brief but heartfelt.  
“Thank you.” Gerard said, “For handling this… I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”  
“Yeah. Yeah.” Mikey mumbled, turning his face away to hide his smile.  
  
Gerard knew exactly what he’d be doing if Mikey hadn’t been there for him. Not just tonight, but always. Mikey had always been there. To get him through those first couple of transitions after he’d been bitten. To talk him through heartache and suicidal thoughts and one hell of a bad drinking habit. To drive him out to the woods all the time…  
Without Mikey, Gerard would probably be gone altogether.  
~  
  
In the other room, Frank continued to sip his beer. He lazily listened to the faint tones of Gerard and Mikey talking in the kitchen. He couldn’t really follow what they were saying, but he was too exhausted and distracted to put too much effort into it anyways. He figured he could just ask Gerard whenever he came back.  
Frank approved of whatever “updating” Mikey had done to the upholstery in the room because the couch underneath him was incredibly comfortable. His brain was still reeling with questions, but the warmth of the fire was pushing the threat of sleep. He’d taken his winter coat off and draped it over the arm of the couch. The fire was hot enough for him to be comfortable in just his t-shirt.  
He wished he had a computer because he was sure a quick google search could satisfy a lot of what was going on in the forefront of his mind. Frank understood the curse of the werewolf in an abstract sort of way: you had to be bitten by one, and then you became one, turning under every full moon. The idea that this could actually happen to a person was something Frank could sort of understand. The idea that it had  _already_  happened to the person he’d been rooming with for the past month or so (and  _fucking_  for even longer than that) was a little over Frank’s conceptual capabilities in that moment.  
Little realizations were falling into place with every passing second, and with them, came waves of emotions. Anger. Confusion. Hurt.  
Frank had thought he  _knew_  the person he’d been sleeping next to and he’d been so wrong.  
Could they sustain something they’d built on lies? That was the first thing Frank found himself wondering. They’d both fucked everything up so spectacularly that trying to form some semblance of a relationship after all of this seemed completely fucking foolish.  
Next Frank couldn’t help but ask himself if any of it changed how he  _felt_  about Gerard. His immediate response was ‘no,’ it didn’t change anything. With this realization came a fluttering feeling in his chest. It could’ve just been a fleeting result of his adrenaline finally tapering off, but something told Frank it was more than that.  
Gerard made him feel this way all the time. Or, the person he’d thought Gerard was had made him feel this way all the time. And Frank had driven all the way up to the cabin in the first place to tell Gerard about that feeling, to sort everything out, to apologize for last night and this morning, and Valentine’s day and everything else that had gone wrong.  
It was completely ridiculous that Frank was concerned with where they stood romantically over what Gerard  _ **was.**_  He knew that. Gerard was right to be offended, Frank supposed.  
But the way Frank saw it, it was just a coping mechanism. It was easier to think about the logistics of where to go from here, than it was to think about the reality of their situation.  
The reality kept coming for him though, as much as he tried to push it away: The person Frank had chased halfway to Canada was literally something out a fucking  _horror movie._  
Gerard was a  _monster._  
  
Frank had finished off his drink by the time Gerard returned to the room. He cocked his head to the side in curiosity as he took in Frank’s comfortable, lazy position on the couch. Frank bit his lip to stop himself from pointing out how  _dog-like_  the unconscious gesture was. It sort of made him giddy. Some part of him (a part that wasn’t as hopelessly in love as it was  _furious_  with Gerard) was just curious,  _excited even,_  over discovering he was in the company of a creature he’d always presumed to be fictional.  
The pale yellow was gone from Gerard’s eyes, but there was still something wild about his appearance that Frank couldn’t place.  
“What?” Gerard asked, he hesitated by the end of the couch, like he couldn’t gauge if Frank was cool with him getting any closer or not.  
“Nothing.” Frank said quickly, patting a hand cushion beside him to beckon Gerard closer.  
“No,  _what?”_  Gerard pressed, hesitating for another second before giving in and returning to his seat beside Frank.  
“It’s just… Now that I see it, I can’t  _unsee_  it.” Frank mused, not even bothering to pretend he wasn’t looking Gerard over for other hints of the lycanthropy.  
“Oh...” Gerard said, frowning softly.  
“No. It’s okay.” Frank said, aiming for reassuring.  
“It’s… okay?” Gerard repeated slowly, “I mean, you haven’t run away screaming but are you _actually okay with this?_ ”  
“I tried to run away screaming.” Frank snorted, “You cornered me.”  
“That’s  _ **not**_  funny.” Gerard intoned softly.  
“It’s…” Frank paused, trying to work the smile off his face, “ _Not funny_ , you’re right. But I’m allowed to joke about my own near-death experience.”  
Gerard’s eyes widened, almost comically, in horror.  
“That’s what would’ve happened, right?” Frank asked, “If something hadn’t…  _stopped you._ ”  
Gerard seemed to shrink back from Frank a little, then, as he mulled over how to answer.  
“I think so…” Gerard said eventually, nodding, “I’m not sure. The wolf has shown an interest in Mikey and um, other people in the past. We’ve never tried to figure out if it’s malicious or not...”  
Gerard lowered his gaze.  
“I’m okay with this, Gerard.” Frank said, reaching out to rest his hand on Gerard’s arm, “Or, I want to be okay with this? I feel like I’m okay with this, but I need… I don’t know? Time?”  
“Of course.” Gerard nodded solemnly, “I understand… I was going to wait until you weren’t so _busy._.. I didn’t want to spring this on you like this. I thought-”  
It wasn’t until Frank saw Gerard’s lips curl into a deep frown, that he realized Gerard had misunderstood. Gerard thought that Frank was looking to reject him politely, that this was another thing Frank was going to say he simply  _didn’t have time for._  
Frank didn’t have time for it, if he was totally honest with himself. There was no way in hell he could pencil a werewolf into his busy schedule, but suddenly, he didn’t care. Gerard being flaky and aloof because he was off in the woods somewhere transitioning into a fucking werewolf every night was a lot different than Gerard being flaky and aloof because he wanted to fuck other people. Frank was sure being with Gerard came with it’s own set of problems… he’d just have to fit them in somehow, around apartment hunting and interns and scheduling tour dates...  
“I didn’t mean it like-” Frank started to say and then he lunged forward, pressing his lips against Gerard’s. He pressed himself into Gerard’s warmth, kissing him slow and desperate, frantically searching for a way to wordlessly convey the overwhelm of conflicting emotions.  
“Frank, don’t-” Gerard protested, trying to push Frank away, but not too far away, “I don’t know how contagious I am. You don’t-”  
“Oh.  _Right._ ” Frank breathed. He made no effort to move out of Gerard’s space, but stopped trying to attack him with his lips. He wiped his mouth off on the back of his hand as if it would help.  
“Gerard, I drove up here to tell you that I wanted…  _wanted to make time for us.”_  Frank tried softly, leaning his forehead against Gerard’s, “I wanted to be an  _us._ ”  
“Wanted?” Gerard echoed, “As in past tense?”  
“I don’t…” Frank faltered, “I don’t  _know_  anymore. I’m so fucking mad at you but I-”  
Frank stopped. He didn’t know what to say.  
“It’s okay if this is too much.” Gerard said evenly, “If you decide you want nothing to do this… I’d never hold it against you, Frank. I’d  _understand._ ”  
“Shut up.” Frank said, pecking Gerard’s cheek, “ _I love you._  I’m not going to bail on you like that I just-”  
“But you l-...  _like me_  under false pretenses.” Gerard pointed out morosely, “You’re allowed to bail.”  
“I’m pretty pissed you didn’t tell me…” Frank said, “But right now I just want… I want you to kiss me.”  
“I want to.  _Believe me,_  I do, but Frank if you caught it...” Gerard , “I- I’ve already exposed you too much… just… stay back.  _Please._ ”  
Gerard tried to squirm away from Frank, but Frank only mirrored his movements. As Gerard tried to pull back, Frank leaned forward more.  
“I don’t have a lot of self control right now…” Gerard begged, placing a hand on Frank’s chest to keep him back, “This is a really bad idea.”  
“Like you would know a bad idea if it fucking hit you.” Frank scoffed.  
“I resent that.” Gerard huffed, dropping his hand. He’d leaned so far back on the cushions, Frank had to practically crawl on top of him to keep up. Their faces were still inches apart. Frank could feel Gerard’s warm breath against his face.  
“You know what would be a bad idea, Gerard?” Frank asked, “Letting someone sleep next to you every night, letting them  _fall in love with you_ , and failing to mention you’re a fucking werewolf.”  
“I didn’t  _make_  you do...  _that._ ” Gerard argued, “If that’s what happened... you came to it all on your own.”  
“So you deny all responsibility?” Frank asked, raising an eyebrow, “You fucking  _would._  You can’t even fucking say the word out loud.”  
“I can… I just…” Gerard faltered.  
“You said it before.” Frank pointed out softly, “Why can’t you say it now?” “I’m sorry… I just wasn’t expecting any of this.” Gerard offered, “After Valentine’s day and last night and  _this morning_ … I thought I’d lost you for good, Frank… And now you’re…  _here._  And you’re not running away screaming…”  
“You think this is any easier for me?” Frank asked, “You think I was expecting this?”  
“That’s not what I’m trying to say.” Gerard said, shaking his head, “Look, I’m sorry. I don’t know what else you want me to say. I’m just...  _so fucking sorry._ ”  
“That’s a good start.” Frank said.  
He closed the short distance between them, pressing his lips against Gerard’s again. Gerard had apparently given up on fighting it because he kissed back sweetly, desperately.  
“I’ll punish you later. I swear.” Frank threatened in between kisses, “You’re in  _so much fucking trouble_.”  
Gerard just hummed, leaning in to kiss Frank again. Frank parted his lips, inviting Gerard in. It felt so good to have Gerard’s hands on him, to be in love, to sort of be on the same page for once...  
“Fucking shit.” Mikey called out loudly, startling their lips apart.  
When Frank looked up, panting softly, Mikey was wandering back into the den with a hand over his eyes.  
“Updated upholstery, Gerard.” Mikey offered threateningly, using a tone of voice that, up until now, Frank only seen him break out when negotiating record deals,  ** _“Third base?”_**  
“Um?” Frank breathed, feeling his cheeks heat up, “Wh-”  
“Oh, I’ll explain that later. It’s not what you think.” Gerard said, squirming out from under Frank, sliding off the couch, and urging Frank to follow him by extending a hand for Frank to grab.  
“We were just  _leaving anyways._ ” Gerard huffed.  
“Yep. That’s exactly what it looked like.” Mikey sighed sarcastically.  
Frank let himself be pulled off the couch. He rose on unsteady legs, watching as Mikey lowered his open laptop onto the coffee table and settled onto the couch across from where they’d been sitting. He hadn’t realized how much he was shaking until he was trying to follow Gerard out of the room smoothly.  
“Jamia says she loves you, by the way.” Mikey called after them, “I told her you love her, too... And that you’re buying us drinks next week, after the board meeting.”  
“I… Thank you?” Frank called over his shoulder.  
“Come on.” Gerard said, once they were out of the room, “I’ll show you to the guest room. Or, well, I mean, that’s where we’re going. Together. I’m not gonna like… But I mean, I guess if you want to be alone, I can- or, if you want to talk we can…”  
Frank had never heard Gerard trip over his words so much. He supposed Gerard was nervous. He’d probably be nervous too. Or, he  _was_  nervous too, but for completely different reasons. He was following a person very capable of of tearing him to shreds into complete darkness in a strange house in the middle of the woods.  
“Um. Okay?” Frank said softly, not sure what else there was to do but go along with whatever Gerard thought was right.  
His eyes weren’t adjusting to the light, no matter how much he strained to see, but Gerard didn’t let go of Frank’s hand as he lead them down the long, dark hallway. He held onto it as they made their way up a set of creaky wooden stairs. It was nice to not have to find his own way in the darkness. It was nice to follow instead of leading, because he was definitely too lost to lead them in any direction.  
They went down another hallway, around a corner, down another short hallway and to the right. Just when Frank was sure he wouldn’t be able to find his way back to the den, Gerard led them into a small room.  
The moonlight cascaded in through the windows along the far wall, faintly illuminating the furniture in the room. Gerard finally slipped his hand out of Frank’s to cross the room and turn on a small lamp.  
Frank squinted in the dim light, taking in the room around him. There was a set of bunk beds with a desk in between, off the one side of the room. Another bed sat under the windows.  
Gerard bit his lip as he stared at Frank, clearly trying to gauge what Frank was feeling. Or maybe he just couldn’t believe that they were both really here. Frank was having a hard time believing it himself.  
Gerard perched himself on the edge of the bed under the windows. There was a square of moonlight beside him on the bedspread. He eyed it cautiously for a moment before returning his gaze back up to Frank.  
“I used to spend my summers here when I was a kid. This cabin has been in my family for… awhile.” Gerard said, “I’m not sure how long. It was my grandmother’s. Some of my cousins still use it in the summer but mostly it’s just us.”  
Frank felt weirdly like he was on a stage, just standing in the middle of the room with Gerard staring up at him, so he crossed the room and sat beside Gerard on the bed. Close, but not too close.  
“So um…” Gerard paused, “If you want to talk about this more, we can. But if you don’t, that’s fine, too… Whatever you want, really.”  
He held out his hand, palm up and slid it towards Frank. Frank wasn’t sure if he was supposed to take Gerard’s hand or if Gerard was even aware of the gesture at all…  
“But, um, I just want to say something...” Gerard continued, meeting Frank’s eyes and then quickly darting his gaze away again, “I know I lied to you. I know I...  _kept things from you…_  But I hope you can understand  _why_  I did that. You can hate me for it as long as you understand that I just needed to keep you...  _away from this._.. Away from what I  _am._ ”  
He shifted his gaze back to Frank and the pale yellow color had returned to his eyes. The color was even stranger in the pale moonlight that was reflecting off the bedspread. Gerard’s gaze flitted away again, and the yellow vanished.  
“But, you can ask me anything you want.” Gerard added, “About this. About anything. Nothing about me will ever be off-limits to you ever again, Frank. I  _promise._ ”  
Frank bit his lip as Gerard glanced over at him again. His eyes had returned to their natural, hazel color. He wondered if Gerard knew his eyes were doing that, if he could feel it, if it meant he was close to changing again. Frank had never seen it happen before. He would’ve remembered something like that.  
Gerard leaned closer then and it made Frank flinch back. He hadn’t meant to do it, but his apparent timidness seemed to pain Gerard. The wolfish man didn’t even try to fight the frown that spread across his lips.  
“I don’t want you to be afraid of me...” Gerard said, recoiling, “I would never hurt you. Not intentionally.”  
“I know.” Frank said softly.  
“I’m so fucking sorry...” Gerard said, reaching his hand forward to try and touch Frank but then quickly pulling it away again, “Incredibly fucking sorry.”  
He was looking at Frank like Frank was supposed to say something, but Frank had no idea what he was supposed to say. People didn’t usually apologize because they were sorry. They apologized because they needed to be reassured that they were forgiven.  
But Gerard seemed genuinely sorry. Frank  _knew_  he was.  
“You weren’t supposed to find out like this...” Gerard sighed.  
“How the fuck was I supposed to find out?” Frank found himself asking. His voice came out angrier than he meant for it to, but if he was honest he was angrier than he meant to be.  
“I guess you just…  _weren’t?”_  Gerard said, “I mean I thought about telling you… um, Valentines Day… outside of that restaurant but it felt  _wrong?_  It’s always just felt wrong. I didn’t want you to think I was crazy. I mean, you already do, I’m sure, but...”  
“That’s not really an excuse.” Frank pointed out.  
“I was going to tell you as soon as things were more  _stable..._  Your living situation, your job…” Gerard offered, “At least, that’s what I’ve been telling myself. I’m sure I would’ve found more reasons to not tell you. I always seem to...”  
“Would you have just… kept seeing me indefinitely?” Frank asked, “And never told me? Did you really think I’d  _never_  find out?”  
“Well…  _no._ ” Gerard said, “The problem usually resolves itself, Frank. Most people don’t stick around long enough to find out. I don’t let them… And you’re no exception.”  
Gerard returned his gaze back to Frank again, and this time he held it. Frank smiled weakly in spite of himself. It was a nervous habit. The intensity of Gerard’s stare was mind-numbing and all-encompassing in a way that made Frank forget himself, if only for a moment.  
Frank was sort of offended all of a sudden, but only because Gerard had implied that Frank fit in with “most people,” and somewhere in his head he’d always thought Gerard might think of him as more than that. Even if they were nothing more than friends with benefits or whatever, he’d always sort of thought he was special to Gerard in some way.  
They were in love with one another, sure, whatever abstract value that had. Or, Gerard had said he loved Frank before. But maybe Gerard fell in love easily, all the time? Frank didn’t, but some people did. Maybe Gerard genuinely fell in love with everyone he slept with? If werewolves existed, it wasn’t so hard to believe something like that.  
“I’ve never been able to picture anyone actually wanting to be with me... if they  _knew._ ” Gerard went on, “Even if they didn’t end up running away, screaming... I’m such a fucking inconvenience. I hate how much of Mikey’s time I take up as it is, but he’s my brother and I think he likes exiling himself to the cabin every month. It’s different with him. But I change 5 nights out of every 29. And I’m a mess for days before and after. I won’t get into details. Unless you want me to… But I’d never wish the misery of being with me on anyone. Not long term. The plan was to just enjoy my time with you until you got fed up with my bullshit and left… like you did last week.”  
“ _But you can’t just decide things like that for people._ ” Frank argued, “That’s not fair. You can’t just assume no one will ever be cool with it. You have to be honest and open and then let people decide for themselves if it’s a fucking inconvenience or not.”  
“This isn’t a game, Frank” Gerard argued, “I’m completely allowed to decide that for people. I’m a fucking freak and there are repercussions if someone finds out and they aren’t cool with it. Have you  _seen_  the X-Files? I’m sure there are plenty of mad scientists out there who would love to cut me up and take a look at my insides.”  
“Well I’m fucking cool with it.” Frank huffed, “I always would’ve been cool with it. It’s fucking cool.”  
“It’s  _not_  cool.” Gerard said, shaking his head, “It’s disgusting and painful and dangerous. Not to mention potentially contagious… and incredibly time-consuming...”  
“We’ll figure it out.” Frank promised, reaching out to glide his fingers along Gerard’s jawline. Gerard leaned into Frank’s touch and closed his eyes. He hummed as Frank ran a hand over his damp, black hair. Again, Frank found his mannerisms so dog-like.  
“The X-Files is just a fucking TV show.” Frank added comfortingly, “Nobody is going to turn you in.”  
“I’m not trying to guilt you into feeling sorry for me... or staying with me.” Gerard said softly, “I’m just trying to help you understand why I had to lie about this...”  
“I’m not mad at you for lying,” Frank said, “I’m mad at you for not  _trusting me_... Especially if you _love_  me.”  
It was hard for Frank say the L-word smoothly. It felt so strange to say it out loud. He worried Gerard would pick up on this, but Gerard just kept his eyes closed and continued to nuzzle against Frank’s hand. At least Frank could say it at all...  
“I trust you… it’s just…  _complicated._ ” Gerard offered hesitantly. He covered the hand Frank had pressed against his cheek with his own and pressed his lips to Frank’s palm. The thoughtless intimacy seemed so natural, so easy for Gerard. It made Frank blush. Frank looked away, eyes nervously roaming around the room. It felt fitting that they were having this conversation here, in a place so personal to Gerard. Even if Frank had sort of forced his way into this situation, both Gerard and his brother had welcomed him in... and handed him a beer even. That had to count for something, didn’t it?  
“I um, I think I sort of knew already…” Frank admitted.  
“You...  _knew?”_  Gerard asked, lips moving against Frank’s hand. He slid his lips down over Frank’s wrist and let them linger there. His warm breath cascaded over Frank’s skin as he pressed a slow, gentle kiss there. When Frank looked back over, heart pounding, Gerard was staring back at him.  
He was starting to get sort of stiff from sitting so still, but he was afraid to move. He didn’t want to do anything that might make Gerard stop.  
“Well there were just little things…” Frank said softly, “At first anyways. Like, you had this cut on your face when I came over once, and it was gone by the time I left... And then sometimes you growl in your sleep. I thought I was dreaming it at first… but then- And you really could’ve come up with a smoother lie, you know? Going out to the woods for every full moon? I thought… I don’t know what I thought. I guess I thought you were a satanist or a demon of some kind. Maybe an alien. I don’t know. I knew you were weird.”  
Gerard let out a breath of a laugh and the warmth of his breath made Frank shiver.  
“Um, what are the chances of you...  _changing back?_ ” Frank asked nervously.  
Gerard dropped Frank’s hand from his mouth and let it rest in between his hands in his lap.  
“I don’t know. I don’t feel like I’m going to.” Gerard said, squeezing Frank’s hand, “It’s been happening for so long… I can feel it pretty far ahead of time.”  
“Does it... hurt?” Frank asked, “When you change, I mean?”  
 _“Like nothing else.”_  Gerard nodded.  
Frank frowned and bit into his lower lip, momentarily considering the horrible pained sounds he’d heard the wolf making earlier on.  
“Don’t look at me like that.” Gerard insisted softly.  
“Like what?” Frank asked.  
“Like you feel sorry for me.” Gerard said, “I get enough of that from Mikey.”  
“You should’ve  _heard_  the sounds you were making when you…” Frank trailed off.  
“I’m so sorry you had to see me like that, Frank...” Gerard said.  
“Don’t be.” Frank said shaking his head, “It’s my fault. Jamia always tells me that if I go digging for dirt the only thing I’ll find is dirt...”  
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just compare me to dirt.” Gerard smiled.  
“I just meant-” Frank faltered.  
“I knew what you meant...” Gerard said, brushing his thumb over the back of Frank’s hand.  
They were both quiet then. Gerard kept looking at Frank like he was waiting for Frank to run away. Frank wasn’t sure what his face was doing, but he was sure he probably looked like he wanted to run away. He sort of did still, if he was completely honest. It would certainly be easier than trying to make sense of the trainwreck his lovelife had become over the course of the last week or so.  
“If you still want me at all, I’ll do all I can to keep this out of your way…” Gerard said, “Mikey and I have a pretty good system down so you wouldn’t even have to-… I guess my point is that you’d be safe. I can keep you out of harm’s way...”  
“I don’t want that.” Frank said. He wasn’t sure why he sounded so certain.  
Gerard’s hands twitched around Frank’s. He frowned in confusion, searching Frank’s eyes to try and gather meaning.  
“It’s a part of you… isn’t it?” Frank asked.  
“Well, yeah… not by choice… but I suppose…” Gerard mused, furrowing his brow.“It wouldn’t be fair of me to expect you to keep it away from me, then.” Frank pointed out.  
“Frank, if I ever hurt you…” Gerard frowned, “The thought that I almost…”  
“I’m  _okay._ ” Frank promised, “I just… I want you to feel like you can be yourself with me.  _For once..._ I don’t want you to have to pretend with me. No more secrets. No more lying. If this is a part of you, then I want in.”  
“You don’t know what you’re asking.” Gerard said solemnly.  
“That’s entirely your fault.” Frank countered, “And also, how dare you suggest I wouldn’t want you anymore? This doesn’t… doesn’t change how I feel.”  
“ _It should_ , Frank.” Gerard countered, “I’m a  _fucking nightmare._ ”  
“Yeah, well…” Frank mumbled. He was out of arguments and his thoughts were starting to get sort of muddy. He had to strain to hold his anger together.  
  
“I know you think you’re okay with this but I want you to sleep on it…” Gerard said.  
“I’m not going to change my mind.” Frank said decisively.  
“Everything looks different in the daylight.” Gerard said, “Trust me.”Frank glanced out the window at the moon over the treeline. He tried to picture to same scene in the daylight and he couldn’t. That was because he’d never been here before, not because there was any truth to what Gerard had said, he tried to remind himself.  
“You can sleep in here tonight. It’s the warmest room in the house. Or, if you’re not tired… you can go wherever you want here… again, nothing about me, or this place, is off-limits to you...” Gerard said, “But I need to go see if Mikey’s figured out why I changed back…”  
Gerard let go of Frank’s hand and when Frank looked back over at him, he was holding his arm out under a square of moonlight coming in through the window. His pale skin was almost glowing under the white beams.  
“You mean you’re going to leave me alone up here?” Frank asked incredulously.  
“Well,  _yeah…_ ” Gerard said, retracting his arm from the moonlight, “I don’t want you to drive back to the city tonight… but I want to give you some space. But if you don’t want to be alone right now, I could-”  
“You almost killed me and now you want me to deal with that  _all by myself?_ ” Frank interrupted, “ _No fucking way_  am I letting you off that easy.”  
“But that’s just it, Frank.” Gerard said, pointing at himself, “ ** _I_**  almost killed you. I am a  _fucking monster._  Why would you want to be anywhere near me right now? Or  _ever?_  I am giving you a free one-way ticket out of this and you would be smart to fucking take it.”“I’m not letting you off that easy.” Frank repeated.  
“What is that even supposed to  _mean?_ ” Gerard asked crossly, running a hand through his hair. Frank’s attitude had clearly worn off on him, and Frank was only a little sorry about it.  
“I wish you could  _hear yourself right now._ ” Frank scoffed, “You can’t just fucking…  _lead me on like that._  You can’t tell me you want to be with me and then tell me ‘ _Oh, sorry, **nevermind.**  I’m a fucking monster and I might kill you. So get the fuck out of here and deal with this on your own. Nice knowing you._’ That’s such a fucking cop-out. You don’t get to just walk away from this like that.”  
“Well when you... put it  _like that_ …” Gerard mumbled.  
“You can be such a fucking selfish asshole.” Frank added, “It’s  _un-fucking-believable._  I wish I didn’t love you so fucking much.”  
Gerard pursed his lips and stared helplessly at Frank. There was so much guilt in his eyes Frank almost felt sorry for surfacing it. The only thing he could think to do was to kiss it away. He closed the short distance between them and launched himself at Gerard, wrapping his arms around Gerard’s neck and crushing their lips together. Frank hadn’t even realized he was cold until he was in Gerard’s space, pressing into his  _unnatural_  warmth.  
Unnatural for a human maybe, but maybe wolves ran  _hot…._  
He hadn’t meant to upset Gerard. He’d just said what he was thinking, what he was feeling. He operated on instinct, fumbling his way onto Gerard’s lap and kissing the hell out of him. He bit at Gerard’s lower lip, begging for access to his mouth.  
“Frank, please, it’s fucking  _contagious._ ” Gerard growled, trying to pull his face away. He wrapped his arms around Frank’s middle to keep him close, to keep him under control.  
“I don’t  _fucking_  care.” Frank breathed, framing Gerard’s face with his palms, searching the wolfish man’s eyes, “If becoming a monster is the only way to get you to tell me you love me again I’ll fucking  _do it._ ”  
“Is that really all you want?” Gerard asked softly, almost inaudibly.  
“No. That’s not  _ **all**_  I want.” Frank countered, “You fucked up and I want you to own up to it instead of… instead of disappearing before morning like you fucking  _love_  to do. And I want you to be all mine, Gerard. No one else’s. I know it’s fucking I selfish but I want you to want  _just me._  But with that in mind,  _yes,_  I also want you to tell me you fucking love me.”  
 _“I fucking love you.”_  Gerard swore obediently, pressing his lips against Frank’s neck.  
Frank fought his way back to Gerard’s lips and kissed him slow, sweet. The fight seemed to be draining from Gerard. He hugged Frank tighter and relaxed against his lips.  
Their mouths fit together easily, like they always did. The act was familiar and well-rehearsed. Even with so much unsaid, kissing felt  _right._  Through everything, all Frank was really sure of was that he still wanted to kiss Gerard, regardless of what he was or if he’d lied about it. Regardless of if he’d left Frank hanging that morning all those months ago.  
“I don’t... have a lot of self control right now.” Gerard warned again breathlessly in between kisses.  
“What do you need it for?” Frank asked, pressing a kiss to the corner of Gerard’s mouth.  
Gerard rolled his hips and shoved Frank down onto the bed. Frank squeaked in surprise. He hadn’t considered how strong Gerard might be. He was bigger than Frank, but it had never occurred to Frank that he might be holding back. It made Frank wonder what else he’d been holding back.  
“There’s usually so much more to me.” Gerard gritted out, sliding in between Frank’s legs, pinning Frank to the bed, “But if you don’t want me to pretend…”  
“No pretending.” Frank agreed breathlessly, “No holding back.”  
“I’m going to do right by you. I swear.” Gerard promised, pinning Frank’s hands above his head, “Coffee… Dinner…  _Valentine’s day_ … I’ll get it all right.” Frank nodded weakly in agreement. He was already panting and useless under the wolfish man. Gerard paused to gaze down at Frank intently.  
“I’m all yours...” Gerard said, “But that means I have to make you  _all mine._ ”  
“ _Please._ ” Frank begged.  
“You don’t know what you do to me, Frank, I…” Gerard trailed off.  
“Then  _tell me._ ” Frank demanded.  
“You  _smell_  so good. You taste so good. I can’t stop thinking about… I don’t even know how to explain it. It doesn’t even really make any fucking sense.” Gerard rambled weakly.  
 _“Try.”_  Frank urged.  
“It’s so animalistic and  _wrong._  It makes me sick. I want to fuck the shit out of you. I want to  _tear you the fuck apart._ ” Gerard growled.  
The thought, the honesty, sent a spike of fear through Frank, but he supposed he’d asked for it. He was too far gone to try to stop this. He’d dug his own grave and he was laying in a metaphorical coffin, perfectly tailored to his size. He felt mildly at peace with himself, no matter the outcome. Nothing mattered beyond the moment they were in, as long as Gerard was near the end of waxing poetic on their sex life. He needed Gerard to kiss him like he needed air to breathe.  
“I can control it usually.” Gerard explained, “When we’re in the city. When the moon isn’t out… but right now… it’s so  _strange._  I can smell your fear… your anxiety. I know you’re turned, on too. I can taste it on your skin.”  
Gerard licked a stripe up Frank’s neck and Frank wasn’t sure if the way he trembled was out of fear or desire or both.  
“You taste so fucking good… I know I should be promising you all kinds of things, right now… but I’m a  _monster._ ” Gerard breathed, grinding his hips against Frank’s again, “All I can think about is- I’d never hurt you but I… I want you- I want to-”  
Frank let Gerard kiss him, hard and rough and full of feeling.  
“Also I’m still sorry.” Gerard said as he broke his lips away from Frank’s.  
“How sorry?” Frank breathed.  
“Monumentally fucking sorry.” Gerard said.  
“How do you expect to make it up to me?” Frank asked.  
“I’ll do whatever you want…” Gerard promised.  
“Kiss me again.“ Frank demanded.  
“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.” Gerard mumbled.  
“You don’t either.” Frank countered.  
That was the end of their conversation for awhile. Their heated frantic kissing took up all of Frank’s mind until he felt like just as much of an animal as Gerard. He wasn’t mad anymore, just turned on. He could feel all the marks Gerard had sucked into his neck, and his jeans were too fucking tight. He thought he might just come in his fucking pants if Gerard didn’t stop. He would’ve been cool with that if he’d thought to bring a change of clothes. He hadn’t really been thinking straight when he’d left the city.  
Gerard sunk his teeth into Frank’s neck and then immediately hissed, pulling away. Frank was sort of grateful, only because the pause helped him to control how fucking on-edge he was.  
“Shit… don’t let me-” Gerard breathed, “I shouldn’t bite you.”  
Frank hummed in agreement.  
“Also… I don’t really have, um, condoms. Or, you know-” Gerard waved a hand in the air to fill in for " _lube."_  
Frank opened his mouth to suggest alternatives, but closed it again when Gerard started sliding up his shirt and moving down, pressing kisses against his ribs, the soft flesh below them, then down to his hips and  _fuck,_  Frank hadn’t even noticed Gerard unbuttoning his jeans until he was expertly pulling them open, mouthing at Frank’s cock through his boxers. He felt like maybe he should warn Gerard he wasn’t likely to last much longer. Gerard knew what he could do to Frank, so he was probably well aware this was more than half over. He pulled Frank’s boxers down anyways and slid Frank’s dick into his mouth and  _fucking hell._  
Frank was  _trying_  to be quiet because the place was unfamiliar to him. He wasn’t sure if the walls would contain the desperate sounds he was making or not. He clasped a hand over his mouth just in case, but trying to keep his moans as soft as possible took too much focus and so he couldn’t stop himself from bucking up into Gerard’s mouth. Gerard seemed into it, if the answering muffled moans he was making were anything to go by.  
“You taste so fucking good.” Gerard breathed, pulling off to pump Frank’s dick with his fist, “Want it _all over_  my tongue.”  
He pressed a few sloppy, wet kisses onto Frank’s skin, just below his bellybutton, before shoving his dick back into his mouth. Gerard could put ‘no gag reflex’ on his fucking resume, Frank thought. It was fucking ridiculous how expertly he swallowed it down.  
Frank wasn’t sure why he was surprised when his orgasm hit. He forgot all about keeping quiet as he gripped at the bedspread under him, fucking right up into Gerard’s mouth all the way through the aftershocks. Frank owed Mikey drinks, and lunch and, he didn’t even know, his first born or some shit. He wasn’t really thinking about Mikey though. Gerard only pulled off when he was oversensitive and spent. He wiped his mouth off on the back of his hand and crawled back up to collapse at Frank’s side.  
Frank slid a hand to cup at Gerard through his jeans only to find he was completely limp.  
“I sort of already…” Gerard trailed off, voice wrecked.  
Frank suddenly felt way less embarrassed about almost coming in his fucking jeans.  
“This feels totally gross but I... don’t wanna  _move_.” Gerard mumbled, wrapping an arm around Frank’s middle and burying his face in the crook of Frank’s neck.  
Frank’s heart fluttered when he felt Gerard breathe him in.  
“I could probably get it up again if you gave me, I don’t know, fifteen minutes?” Gerard added, “Just throwing it out there…”  
“Is that... part of it?” Frank asked quietly.  
“Unfortunately…” Gerard nodded weakly, “Take advantage of it as much as you want but don’t feel obligated… it’s not your job to… The wolf’s appetite is like,  _in-fucking-satiable._ ”  
“But the wolf is…  _you’re_  the wolf, aren’t you?” Frank mused.  
“Yeah I just… in my head I separate the behaviors like that. Talk about it like it’s its own entity. Makes me feel more human.” Gerard explained, “Reminds me I’m not the monster. The monster is just me sometimes.”  
“Makes sense.” Frank offered.  
“Does it?” Gerard laughed breathily, “Well, good.”  
“Um…” Frank hummed, hesitating before asking what he wanted to ask, “Would you… stay with me? I don’t really wanna sleep alone. I mean, if you think you’ll change again, you shouldn’t, but...”  
“I’ll stay.” Gerard mumbled, pressing a kiss against Frank’s shoulder through the fabric of his shirt, “But I should probably… take my pants off. Oh God.”  
Frank giggled as Gerard fumbled his way out of his pants and slung a quilt over them.  
“I fucking love you.” Gerard mumbled against Frank’s ear.  
“I regular love you.” Frank echoed.  
“You… what?” Gerard asked.  
“You don’t have to say the ‘fucking’ part.” Frank explained, “I love you,  _regular,_  without the fucking. I love you.”  
“I’m sorry. I thought ‘fucking’ was your favorite part of that sentence.” Gerard mumbled sarcastically, hugging Frank tighter.  
“I like every other part too.” Frank said. He could hear the smile in his own voice and it made him light-headed. Or, he could admit he was just exhausted, he supposed.  
“I regular love you, then.” Gerard said, “I love you, regular…”  
“I love you, regular.” Frank said again, just because he could.  
“Listen um, if you wake up and I’m  _not here…_ ” Gerard said, all seriousness returning to his voice, “It’s because I’m worried about changing back, not because I wanted to leave, okay?”  
“Okay.” Frank said.  
Frank glanced down at the outlines of their tangled limbs under the quilt. The angle of the moon had shifted. Long slants of moonlight spread across the patchwork.  
“And um, if you change your mind…” Gerard added, “Just… let me be the first to know?”  
“I’m not going to change my mind.” Frank promised.  
“Just… wait ‘til the sun, Frankie.” Gerard said, “Everything looks different in the daylight...”  
“Okay.” Frank said again.  
He didn’t say it out loud, but Frank was afraid of the sunrise. Maybe that made him a vampire. Maybe he was just scared Gerard was right, and he didn’t want Gerard to be right.  
He wasn’t sure how long he stayed awake, staring at the exposed beams on the ceiling, cursing the sun, relishing in the lazy drag of Gerard’s fingertips on his bare skin. But it turned out being warm and in love and spent was exhausting and eventually Frank’s eyelids were drooping with it.  
The last thought he had before drifting off wasn’t fear of the sun, it was fear of the next moon. He could say with certainty that he loved Gerard. He had for awhile. But when it came to the monster under Gerard’s skin, Frank wasn’t so sure. The thought haunted him until the moon dipped below the trees and the edges of the sky lit up with pale yellow.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm trying to not read into this too much but i'm kinda freaked out by how much i love writing arguments. why do i always put my OTP through hell when i just want them to be HAPPY. wtf is wrong with me?


	25. Daylight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nsfw af

The silence was what eventually caused Frank to stir. The absence of the city’s blaring car horns and helicopter blades and bustling streets was hard to ignore, even in the midst of his dreams. Frank had grown so used to the noise pollution that he couldn’t sleep comfortably in silence. It was too fucking _quiet._  
And once he was awake, he couldn’t go back to sleep. Thoughts of the night before came trickling in. And as soon as Frank was awake enough to think, he was abruptly shoved into reality: He was too warm. His mouth was dry. His head hurt. He’d slept in his jeans and they were pinching uncomfortably around one of his knees. He sort of had to pee. On top of all that, his stomach was rumbling. Skipping dinner in the name of getting to Gerard faster had seemed like a good idea the night before, but now Frank was paying for it.  
The saving grace, of course, was that Gerard was still dozing away beside him. If he’d gotten up and left at all during the night, Frank hadn’t noticed. He was still human and he was there, wrapped tightly around Frank.  
He was burning up, too, which explained why Frank was too fucking warm. Frank tried to slide the blankets off of them without moving too much, but after a bit of maneuvering he was still suffocating under the old quilt. His limbs were pinned under Gerard’s dead weight.  
Frank embraced the heat and twisted in Gerard’s arms, so that they were facing one another. Gerard seemed to stir for just a moment, placing a sleepy kiss to the top of Frank’s head before hugging Frank tighter and going still again. The thoughtless intimacy made Frank’s chest flutter.  
He was only caught up in his bliss for a moment. As much as he would’ve liked to ignore it, he was still lying next to a werewolf who had transformed when it shouldn’t have. And Gerard had said it was contagious, which meant there was a possibility Frank had already caught it...  
But Frank was only human. He only had so much energy to devote to his fear of the uncertain. Every little anxious thought only half formed before dissipating again. The details surfaced and submerged again in time with Gerard’s soft, warm breath. Inhale. Exhale.  
Instead of trying to deny the things he couldn’t help now, he tried focusing on the good instead. There was a silver lining to every situation, of course...  
 _Silver._  
He wasn’t sure if Gerard could come in contact with silver. He’d have to ask.  
  
It was hard to believe that any of the things that had transpired the night before had _actually transpired._ Gerard looked so fucking peaceful lying there. As Frank gazed sleepily at the wolfish man before him, it was hard to believe that, under the moon, those chapped lips gave way to sharp fangs. Gerard’s pale, cleanly-shaven cheeks gave way to coarse fur. Those long lashes fluttered open to _piercing yellow eyes._  
The more Frank thought about it, the less he believed it. He knew what he’d seen the night before, but the night before felt so far away. It all felt like some sort of nightmare he could will away until he forgot it completely. And nothing about Gerard’s sleeping form beside him provided any indication that any of it had been real at all. Gerard was entirely human. His chest was rising and falling with each soft breath. No growls. No howling. The expanses of flesh that were not covered by quilt were pale and fur-less.  
That was part of the magic, though, Frank supposed. The creature vanished just as easily as the moon behind the trees, leaving no traces of it’s presence behind.  
Frank tried his best to imagine the wolf again. He pictured the creature’s thick, black fur. The bright, yellow eyes. The terrifying jaws, with their two perfect lines of sharp, white teeth. He tried to imagine the warmth, the _claws._ The way they made no sound as they cut through the icy snow at great speed.  
Frank was sliding out from under Gerard’s tangle of limbs as soon as he thought of it: The tracks in the snow would be all the proof he needed.  
Gerard grumbled some soft protest before rolling over and nuzzling against the pillows to drift off to sleep again. Frank closed his eyes and thanked the fucking universe that Gerard was a heavy sleeper. He paused at the edge of the bed for a moment, waiting for Gerard to settle before tiptoeing out of the room.  
Gerard hadn’t been wrong. Everything did look different in the daylight. The room they’d slept in looked much bigger in the light streaming in through the windows. Frank could actually see where the fuck he was going as he made his way down the hallway.  
He found the bathroom easily, closing the door and locking it behind him. He took a deep breath as soon as he heard the lock slide into place. After relieving himself, he found himself staring out the tiny window above the toilet. He tried to squint and make out the wolf’s tracks in the snow, but he couldn’t see them from the second floor.  
Frank hadn’t been able to take in much of the scenery in the dark. Now that the heavy, grey sky was illuminating the sprawling wilderness, Frank realized just how far out into nature he truly was. Thick snow blanketed the heavily forested mountainside. Houses dotted the slope of the mountain. They lined the thin, black roadway meandering its way up past the Ways’ cabin. The road continued up into the treeline, off into the forests. There were no people walking around, no cars driving by. Frank felt a small twinge of jealousy over the fact that Gerard got to disappear to this place once every month. There was something reviving about the silence, the stillness, the solitude.  
Jamia’s car was still parked in the driveway, behind Mikey’s. The windshields were frosted over. Frank lifted a hand up to touch the window pane and immediately recoiled. The glass was freezing to the touch. He almost would’ve traded his too-warm space beside Gerard in bed for the chill that was starting to work its way into his skin.  
But he was on a _mission_. The wind whistled as it slammed into the side of the cabin. Frank could hear the cabin’s structure creaking, even as he made his way back to the stairs that lead to the ground floor. The stairs themselves creaked loudly underneath him, giving away his presence in the otherwise silent house. The scent of coffee drifted from somewhere in the house. Frank almost followed the scent, his dry throat was practically begging him, but his curiosity was pulling him towards the front door.  
Winter gear decorated the front entrance. Frank hadn’t even noticed it when he’d come inside the night before. A long line of thick-knit sweaters and winter coats hung on hooks along the wall by the door. A pile of hiking boots and snowshoes littered the floor. Frank pulled one of the coats down and shouldered into the heavy garment. He wasn’t sure where he’d left his shoes, so he pulled on a pair of way-too-big black boots. It wasn’t ideal, but he was only going out for a moment. The wolf had leapt right onto the front porch. The tracks would lead right up to the front walkway. He wouldn’t have to go far. He braced himself for the cold, reaching to flip the top deadbolt out of place.  
“Frank?” Mikey called, startling Frank’s hand away from the cold metal handle.  
Frank spun around to find Mikey eyeing him curiously, coffee mug in one hand, a book in the other.  
“Where you goin?” MIkey asked.  
“...Cigarette?” Frank supplied easily.  
“In _that?_ ” Mikey asked skeptically, eyeing Frank’s attire up and down.  
“Uh. Yeah?” Frank said, patting down his pockets to try and find his smokes. They were probably still in Jamia’s car, he realized.  
“You know it’s like, negative 20 out there, right?” Mikey asked, “And _windy?”_  
“Well… Do you just _not smoke_ when you’re here?” Frank asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.  
“No. Uh. Here, let me show you.” Mikey said, beckoning for Frank to follow him.  
Frank glanced longingly at the door for a moment before following Mikey deeper into the house. The awkward, too-large boots thumped loudly against the wooden floor as he walked.  
“So um, how are you feeling?” Mikey asked conversationally as they passed through the elaborate kitchen.  
“Um…” Frank faltered, taking in the assortment of appliances lining the countertops, the oven, the small TV in the corner. Frank wasn’t sure who the fuck needed a food processor and a toaster oven when they had the great outdoors. Mikey and Gerard certainly had no use for those things. He’d never seen either of them cook anything from scratch. He’d never seen Mikey cook _period._  
He vaguely remembered Gerard saying the place had belonged to his grandmother, but he’d been expecting something more… simple, _cabin-like._ The place was homier than his old apartment and his _Mom’s house_ put together.  
“Sorry. Stupid question.” Mikey offered after a beat, “Coffee?”  
“Sure.” Frank said, eyeing Mikey’s little work set up on a table by the windows on the far side of the room. He gravitated towards it, loudly stomping rubber as he walked. Paperwork was sprawled across the table top. Frank recognized the printouts of record sales numbers from the powerpoint at the last meeting they’d gone to, alongside spreadsheets he didn’t recognize. Mikey worked in distribution. It made sense his paperwork looked a little different. There were other print-outs that didn’t look work-related at all though. Photocopied pages of books were mixed in with the other paperwork. Some with lines highlighted and underlined, some with notes in the margins, some with paragraphs crossed out.  
“You actually get work done here?” Frank asked.  
“Usually…” Mikey said, “Cream? Sugar?”  
“No thanks.” Frank said, spinning around to look at Mikey.  
“Oh that’s right you don’t-” Mikey said, shaking his head, “Anyways, lately I usually work on the distro reports when I’m out here. Their interns made a mess out of the last two fiscal years when they were trained on the filing system, so I’m still playing catch-up.” He crossed the room to pass the mug to Frank.  
“But I’ve actually been reading up on, well, _you know._ ” he added with a tired sigh, “I still haven’t really been able to come to any conclusions as to why Gerard changed back last night. It’s the _strangest thing.”_  
“I guess I didn’t know you ever got any work done.” Frank smirked, nervously pulling the subject away from Gerard.  
“I resent that.” Mikey said evenly, “I’m always working, Frank. My methods are just… _different_ than everyone else’s.”  
“If that’s what you wanna call it.” Frank countered, “But I don’t know any grown man who’s still as good at folding paper airplanes as you are. That shit takes practice.”  
“Maybe origami is a hobby of mine?” Mikey shrugged, “And I have to sit through like, twice as many meetings as you, so _shush._ ”  
Mikey waved a hand, beckoning Frank to follow him out of the kitchen. There was a sliding glass door at the far end of the room. Mikey pushed it open and wandered into the next room.  
The room was much colder than the rest of the house, though it was probably due to the huge windows. Even the _ceiling_ had windows, giving anyone standing in the room a full view of the downward slope of the mountain, as well as the forest nestled behind the house. Beyond the windows were thick, heavy, metal bars, only slightly obscuring the view of the icy wilderness.  
It took Frank a moment to understand the purpose of the room. A shelf of what looked like gardening tools sat beside a door leading to the outside, brandished with the same heavy locks the front door had. Frank had to do a double-take when he noticed the hunting rifle on one of the shelves. The bars made sense suddenly. They were there to keep the wolf out. The room was probably a watch-tower of sorts, added on to the house long after Gerard had been turned. Mikey could smoke a cigarette and watch over his brother, without having to worry about coming in contact with the wolf. That still left Frank with questions, like how they managed to get Gerard to _come back_ when they let him out. And how they explained the metal bars to the contractor who put them in.  
  
There was a fire place against the wall that connected the room to the rest of the house. A small fire competed against the cold seeping in through the windows. There were two couches strewn around the fireplace. Mikey dropped onto the one closest to the windows. One of them had a smaller pane that swung open. He grabbed an ashtray off of a small table and motioned for Frank to sit beside him. Frank obliged, trying his best not to slosh any of his coffee as he folded himself into a sitting position. Mikey pulled out his cigarettes, handed one to Frank, without even asking if he needed one, and lit up. He held the flame out for Frank as he blew smoke towards the window.  
“See? Isn’t this so much better?” Mikey asked, “Well… I guess you have nothing to compare it to. But _dude,_ the wind coming down off the mountain is _so fucking cold._ It’s not even worth it. I promise.”  
Icy air whistled its way into the room through the open window. Frank held his mug of hot coffee closer for it’s warmth as he puffed on his cigarette. He inched closer to the small fire, as if it would help.  
As Frank blew his smoke towards the window and took an experimental sip of his coffee, he felt almost like _himself_ for the first time since he’d seen the wolf. The fact that Mikey was still being so fucking nonchalant about everything was helping, too. It made him want to pretend he wasn’t still totally on the verge of freaking out about this.  
The younger Way was a quiet one, but he was being quieter than normal. His silence was probably what made him so good at reading people. Frank could feel Mikey doing it, trying to gauge what was going on in his head. He wasn’t sure what was going on in there, so he wasn’t sure how Mikey intended to make any sense of it.  
  
“So um,” Frank started, clearing his throat, “Can I ask you something?”  
When Frank glanced over at the younger way he nodded firmly, just once.  
“Last night… you said something about Gerard and I… well, like…”  
Frank took another drag off his cigarette before trying to spit it out again.  
“What did you mean when you said we might be stuck together?” Frank asked, pretending he was suddenly very interested in the ‘World’s Greatest Dad’ decal on the outside of his coffee mug. (If he’d had the extra mental space, he might’ve even asked who the fuck it had been intended for, since neither of the Way brothers were fathers, as far as Frank knew.)  
“Well, it would really only apply if Gerard is a false wolf.” Mikey said neutrally.  
“ _False wolf_.” Frank said slowly, trying the words out.  
His gaze drifted to the burning embers of the small fire in front of them.  
“What the fuck is a false wolf?” Frank asked when Mikey didn’t continue.  
“Gerard didn’t explain that one to you yet, huh?” Mikey asked.  
Frank shook his head. He could still feel Mikey’s gaze on him, so he didn’t bother to check if Mikey had seen it.  
“Okay so there are two kinds of werewolves…” Mikey said, exhaling a puff of smoke, “There’s your classic horror-movie, monstrous, rabid creature… oftentimes more humanoid and muscular than the kind of wolf you’d find in nature. Sometimes they look the same as the wolves in nature, only a little more rabid. There’s some debate on their origin. Most people seem to think it’s a virus that mutated somewhere along the line. Those infected tend to live longer than average humans. The effects are irreversible, of course. There’s no known cure…”  
Mikey paused to take a slurp of coffee and flick the growing ash on the end of his cigarette into the ashtray before continuing.  
“It’s interesting. There’s a lot more I could add, but Gerard isn’t _that,_ I don’t think…. There’s a lot of things about his symptoms that make me think he’s a _false wolf._ It’s this curse that’s been passed down for centuries, mostly through animal attacks.” Mikey explained, “It’s sort of harder to research. There’s so much less written about it, so like, there’s only so far modern libraries can get me. Most of what I’ve been able to figure out has come out of hours and hours of scouring through forums. And half of those are bullshit anyways. Either way, as far as I know, the effects are basically the same. But the main thing that makes it worth noting is that there’s a _cure._ ”  
Frank looked over at the younger way then and just blinked. His cigarette had almost gone out entirely, though it was the absolute furthest thing from his mind.  
“Before you get the wrong idea, if there was something we could’ve done it would’ve been done a long time ago.” Mikey said sheepishly.  
Frank’s interest and wonder must’ve been showing on his face, if the look Mikey was giving him was anything to go by. He tried his best to straighten out his features to make himself less obvious. He held his breath as he waited for Mikey to continue.  
Mikey jabbed his cigarette into the ashtray and shoved his hand in his coat pocket before continuing.  
“Gerard would have to kill the wolf that bit him...” Mikey said evenly, “But in order to kill them he’d have to be human. But the thing is, if he was human, they’d be human too, wouldn’t they? And as you can imagine...”  
“Oh.” was all Frank could muster as the words sunk in. He let himself breathe again as he processed Mikey’s unended suggestion. If Frank understood right, Gerard would essentially have to _commit murder_ to be free of his curse.  
“Aside from the fact that my brother could _never hurt someone..._ ” Mikey trailed off slowly, “Did he get the chance to explain to you how he was turned?”  
“We didn’t actually do a whole lot of _talking_ last night...” Frank started to explain.  
“Ew. God.” Mikey coughed.  
“No. Shit. Uh.” Frank laughed nervously, “I meant, we mostly just… argued, really? I was _**mad…**_ I should’ve been listening, but I was talking and-”  
“I mean, I’d be mad, too.” Mikey agreed, “It’s a pretty big thing to keep from someone you love, even if you’re justified in keeping it from them....”  
There it was. That stupid fucking L-Word again. It felt like it came easily to everyone but Frank and his still-sleeping quasi-boyfriend upstairs. Mikey said it like it was a well-known fact, not like it was something that had been surfaced less than 12 hours prior. Maybe it was like the lycanthropy: He’d had time to process it and Frank hadn’t yet. Whatever the reason, it still made Frank’s blood boil. He took a sip of his coffee to keep himself from mentioning it.  
“But um, _anyways…_ ” Mikey went on, “Gerard doesn’t even know who bit him. He was blacked out, smoking a cigarette in an alley behind some bar when it happened. He barely remembers the day leading up to the attack.”  
“Jesus.” Frank breathed. All the anger drained from him as he remembered that Mikey had told him him that Gerard didn’t drink. Even _Gerard_ had said that alcohol and him didn’t mix so well. The real reason being…  
“These aren’t really my secrets to tell.” Mikey sighed, “I was there for some of it, though, so I guess they’re my secrets, too... The paramedics found my business card in his wallet and saw we had the same last name, figured out we were family. I got there as they were loading him up in the ambulance.”  
“We had to sit in the emergency room forever after that.” Mikey continued, “Gerard was still wasted and covered in blood, but all of his wounds had healed. I thought he’d fucking _killed someone_ or something. His clothes were all torn to shreds but he didn’t have a scratch on him. Nothing he was saying made any fucking sense either, so they wouldn’t let me just _take him home._ ”  
“We figured out the wolf thing pretty quick.” he added, “Gerard was drunk the first time it happened, so the wolf was sloppy, and pretty easy to contain. We were still living with our parents. I locked it up in the basement.”  
“How old were you?” Frank asked.  
“Nineteen.” Mikey said, laughing in spite of himself.  
“You had business cards at nineteen?” Frank wondered.  
“Of course that would be the part you find unbelievable…” Mike scoffed, shaking his head, “Anyways, back to false wolves. If Gerard is a false wolf and you turned him back by saying his name… There’s a good chance that in kissing you, he became bound to you. It’s part of the origin story. It’s written like a fucking fairytale though, so there’s no way of knowing if it’s real or not. I already explained that part to Gerard. Some witch lady like, a thousand years ago, was so consumed by passion that she turned her lover into a wolf, who could only return to his human form when she said his name. That way, no one else could have him.”  
Frank swallowed hard, finally abandoning his unfinished cigarette in the ashtray and clasping his free hand around his coffee mug.  
“I don’t really understand what it means to be bound to someone like that. Again, there’s not a whole lot written about it.” Mikey shrugged, “But there’s a chance he’s stuck with you. He can’t um, _be with_ anyone else…”  
“You mean,” Frank said, “Like-”  
“Please don’t make me elaborate on that one.” Mikey grimaced, “Going through the deep web forums I found on the subject was gross enough. And it’s not like there’s any way for us to really test it out anyways, not if you guys are like, _a thing_ now.”  
“Right.” Frank nodded, feeling himself blush.  
Things were starting to fall into place. If the binding was real and Gerard couldn’t ever fuck anyone else, that created some real problems for them. Frank wanted to be with him, but he didn’t know if it was in a forever sort of way. Or, it wouldn’t be forever for Frank, but for Gerard it would be. His stomach twisted at the thought that if they stopped seeing each other Gerard couldn’t-  
“Is there any way to unbind someone?” Frank asked quickly, “Did you read anything about that?”  
Mikey opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again and look up towards the house. Frank followed his gaze. A shirtless and bleary-eyed, Gerard floated out of the cabin and onto the couch beside Frank. Frank couldn’t help but notice the few inches of distance Gerard put between them. When he looked up into Gerard’s eyes, he saw the same uncertainty he was feeling. Gerard seemed hesitant, guarded.  
Frank flinched, almost dropping his mug of coffee when he felt Gerard’s hands reaching for it. Some of the liquid sloshed out on the floor. He handed the mug over, blushing at his own jumpiness.  
“I’m gonna go make some more coffee.” Mikey offered, lifting himself off the couch and stretching his legs.  
“‘Kay.” Gerard said, shooting his brother a small smile.  
Both Gerard and Frank watched as Mikey drifted out of the room, closing the glass door behind him.  
“You’re still afraid of me.” Gerard commented softly as soon as the door was closed all the way.  
“ _No,_ I’m not.” Frank defended, furrowing his brow, “I’m just-”  
“Sorry, I think I meant to say ‘good morning.’” Gerard amended. He leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to Frank’s forehead. Frank closed his eyes and held his breath, thankful he wasn’t going to have to be the one to close the distance between them.  
“Good morning.” Frank replied softly, breathlessly.  
Gerard pulled away to take a small sip of Frank’s coffee and grimaced.  
“We need to get you some almond milk, if you’re going to stay here.” Gerard commented.  
Gerard wasn’t just talking about the cabin though, Frank realized. He was staring at Frank, waiting for him to confirm that he was still cool with everything.  
“We do, yeah.” Frank agreed with a small smile.  
He pushed himself into Gerard’s space, wrapping his arms around the wolfish man’s neck. Frank wasn’t sure what happened with the mug. He didn’t care either. They kissed slowly, sweetly. Frank could’ve cried at the comforting familiarity of the stubble on Gerard’s chin, his chapped lips, his long black hair, tickling the sides of Frank’s face. He shivered when Gerard slid his warm hands up under the back of Frank’s borrowed coat. All of him was warm, in fact.  
“Cold, huh?” Gerard asked around Frank’s lips.  
“How are you not?” Frank laughed.  
“It’s just... one of those things, I guess?” Gerard offered, hugging Frank tightly, “Let’s get you inside.”  
Frank’s heart fluttered at the way Gerard breathed him in before letting him go. He wasn’t meant to notice it, maybe, but Gerard’s words from the night before were burned into his mind. Gerard said Frank smelled good, good enough to tear apart. He said it was animalistic and wrong.  
Frank didn’t want to stop touching Gerard after that, not for a fucking second. He only did it in favor of getting back into the warmth of the cabin. Mikey didn’t look up from his computer as they passed by him on their way through the kitchen. The rubber boots thumped loudly against the wooden flooring all the way into front living room where they all had sat the night before.  
“Cool shoes...” Gerard commented as he spun around and took in Frank’s ensemble of borrowed winter gear, “Where exactly were you planning on taking my coat?”  
“I um, left s-something in my- _Jamia’s_ car.” Frank said, fumbling over his words.  
Gerard raised a skeptical eyebrow.  
“My cigarettes?” Frank offered. It came out more like a question than a statement.  
“Would you like me to go get them for you?” Gerard asked smoothly.  
“No, it’s fine, I bummed one from Mikey.” Frank said.  
“Alright.” Gerard nodded, “Then, um-”  
“What do you normally do during the day, when you’re here?” Frank asked, changing the subject.  
“Well… I’m not usually so um, _awake._ ” Gerard offered, dropping onto the couch and staring up at Frank, “I heal faster when I’m asleep so I usually just sort of sleep until the moonrise…”  
There was still this awkward hesitation radiating from Gerard. His words seemed so forced, like if he admitted too much Frank would bolt.  
Frank slid out of the thick winter coat, letting it slump onto the floor, and lowered himself onto the couch beside Gerard. He held perfectly still as Gerard grabbed a throw blanket that had been draped over the back of the couch and spread it over the two of them.  
“I mean, I only spent a couple of hours as um, well, _you know_ , so I’m not as tired as I normally would be.” Gerard rambled on, adjusting the fabric so that it covered both of them adequately, “This has obviously um, never _happened before._ ”  
“If I’d stayed out all night I’d be recovering in here actually.” Gerard went on, “This couch is a pull-out bed. Mikey moves the coffee table out of the way for me. I’m usually too wiped to make it all the way upstairs.”  
It wasn’t like Gerard to compulsively fill silence with words. Frank realized he was nervous again. Nervous or just excited to finally have someone new to tell about his incredible secret. Frank wordlessly rested his head on Gerard’s shoulder, huddling closer for warmth. The closeness seemed to relax the wolfish man, because he shut the hell up. He wrapped his arms around Frank under the blanket. His warmth was more than welcoming.  
Frank closed his eyes and pressed his face into the crook of Gerard’s neck. His heart fluttered again at the way Gerard breathed him in. He wasn’t sure if Gerard was even aware he was doing it.  
“I still can’t believe you haven’t run away screaming.” Gerard said softly.  
“I already told you,” Frank smiled, “I _tried_ to.”  
“I’m not kidding. Don’t joke about that.” Gerard sighed, “Frank… after everything I did, what I ** _am…_** ”  
“If I was going to run away, I would’ve done it already.” Frank insisted.  
“When I woke up and you weren’t there…” Gerard said, “I guess I thought… I _thought..._ ”  
“I’m so sorry about yesterday morning. I shouldn’t have left.” Frank said, pulling away enough to look Gerard in the eyes, “I thought it would make me feel better but it _didn’t._ It felt so awful to leave you...”  
“It’s okay. I think I understand why you did it…” Gerard said quietly, “For the record we didn’t- nothing happened.”  
“Nothing...” Frank repeated.  
“You were drunk.” Gerard elaborated smoothly, “And I’m a gentleman. I wouldn’t- Not with things so up in the air like that.”  
“But I woke up... _um…_ ” Frank pointed out, not needing to finish with _‘naked.’_  
“You insisted on taking a shower with your clothes on.” Gerard laughed, “And then you took them off. You have to remember, or I guess you don’t remember, which why- but… I was drunk too. There was only so much I could do for you.”  
“I’m sorry.” Frank mumbled, averting his gaze, “I can be such a mess when I drink like that.”  
“A _hot_ mess.” Gerard corrected, sliding a finger under Frank’s chin to tilt his face back in his direction.  
Frank smiled, feeling himself blush. Gerard smiled back.  
Frank was just glad that they were alone. If someone could’ve taken a picture, it would’ve been enough to blackmail Frank for the rest of his fucking life. He felt disgustingly warm, inside and out.  
“It’s behind us now, if you want it to be.” Gerard said, smile sobering away. He was a perfect picture of seriousness. He let his hand fall from Frank’s face as he waited him out.  
Frank nodded slowly, seriously. Putting all their drama behind them, while easier said then done, _made sense_ , if they were going to try to make this work.  
“I wanna, um, I wanna take you out for breakfast.” Gerard said, leaning in to press a kiss to Frank’s cheek, “I wanna do this right.”  
“Can you?” Frank asked, “What if you change back?”  
“I won’t.” Gerard said, “I don’t think I will, anyways.”  
“Where could we even… This isn’t exactly the east village. We’re halfway up a mountain.” Frank pointed out skeptically.  
“There’s a breakfast spot the next town over.” Gerard laughed, “I just need to put a shirt on. Give me thirty seconds.”  
  
Getting out of the house took way more than 30 seconds, though.  
The younger Way vetoed the idea of Gerard leaving, right off the bat. Frank was about to take Mikey’s side but decided against it when he remembered he’d vowed to never get in the middle of sibling rivalry ever again. He’d been around Jamia and her brother enough to know what happened when he sided with the wrong Nestor. Given that one of the Way’s was an unstable werewolf Frank was sort of in love with, he decided it was in his best interest to just shut the fuck up and let them work it out.  
Gerard won of course, reasoning that the Moon couldn’t possibly be further away from them, given that it was midday. Mikey could lock him up before sundown, if he felt that was necessary.  
  
“Be careful.” Mikey had said, eyeing Gerard, “Like, _so fucking careful._ ”  
Frank and Mikey had both just stared at him when Gerard had smiled and said, _“What’s the worst that could happen?”_  
After a few minutes of reassurance from Gerard, Mikey handed his keys over, continuing to eye his older brother skeptically.  
They took Mikey’s car because Gerard said he was more comfortable driving it. Frank had said he was fine to drive but of course Gerard ‘knew the way like the back of his hand.’  
Frank wasn’t sure if he liked the idea of an unstable false wolf driving on winding, icy roads. No, he was pretty sure he didn’t like it at all. He could only half pay attention to Gerard rambling on and on fondly about the area. The lake he went swimming in as a kid, the trail-head that lead the rest of the way up the mountain... While they sped past Gerard’s childhood memories, Frank gripped the seat tightly as if it would help him at all when Gerard eventually transitioned in the middle of driving, plunging both of them into a Ravine - Frank, of course, strapped into the front seat with a hungry, angry werewolf that had a taste for his particular brand of manhattan punk-boy. As the horror movie scenarios played in Frank’s head, Gerard kept insisting he was fine. He even reached over to take Frank’s hand when the road straightened out.  
As the road sloped down into a small town, Frank was able to loosen his death-grip a little. It was sort of nice to be completely alone with Gerard until, suddenly, they weren’t alone anymore. Gerard pulled the car into a heavily parked up little diner off the main road.  
Frank eyed the cars as they circled around looking for a parking spot. The first thing he noticed was the size of the cars. Most people had big trucks, covered in mud and ice from off-roading. The second thing Frank noticed was the hunting bumper stickers decorating the outsides of the vehicles.Somehow it hadn’t occurred to Frank that being out the mountains meant he’d be in the back-country redneck capital of upstate New York. His mind had been kind of _occupied_ , he supposed.  
Frank had his defenses up as they wandered into the warm, crowded diner, arm in arm. His hands were buried deep in the pockets of much the more well-fitting winter coat Gerard had found him. The tattoos curling around his hands were easily concealed. The neck tattoo was thankfully buried under a thick scarf.  
The waitress’s eyes darted between the two of them as she asked if they wanted a table or a booth. Frank couldn’t decide if she was more taken aback by Gerard’s wild sort of beauty, or the fact that they probably looked like they were a long way from home.  
Frank felt better once they were tucked away in a booth. He could still feel eyes on them, though. He took his coat off as quickly as possible and kept the scarf on. His hands, he tucked carefully into his lap. He stared out into the sea of bustling tables. White-haired men in hunting camouflage occupied many of the tables. Frank averted his gaze when one of them made eye contact with him.  
It wasn’t just that they were hunters. Frank hated people who hunted for sport on a fundamental level, for sure. It was his vegan duty to hate them. What scared him, though, was that he knew the culture that went along with those kinds of people. He hated to generalize. He hated people who looked at him and made generalizations. It wasn’t punk to generalize. But he knew they hated people _like him. Like Gerard._  
Gerard eyed Frank worriedly as he ordered two cups of coffee from the waitress.  
“Hey, what’s up?” Gerard asked hesitantly, once she was gone.  
“Nothing.” Frank said, looking back to Gerard and smiling.  
“Is it…” Gerard started, face growing more and more concerned, “Are you having second thoughts?”  
“No,” Frank sighed, “It’s not that-”  
“‘Cause if you are, that’s totally okay. I get it.” Gerard interrupted, “I know this is probably a lot.”  
“It’s not you.” Frank said shaking his head, “I just… didn’t realize we would be, uh, _here._ ”  
“Here.” Gerard repeated, clearly not getting Frank’s meaning.  
“Hunters.” Frank said, leaning forward so he could speak quietly, _“Homophobes.”_  
“Oh.” Gerard blinked, “ _That’s_ what you’re worried about?”  
Frank nodded.  
“It’s not very punk to be afraid of them.” Gerard pointed out lightly, obviously trying to pull Frank out of his stupor.  
“Punk only gets you so far when you’re outnumbered.” Frank offered darkly.  
“They can’t hurt us.” Gerard promised, “They won’t.”  
“What makes you so sure?” Frank asked, eyeing some dude’s _What Would Jesus Do?_ pin.  
“Here just… don’t look at them. Look at _me._ ” Gerard tried, “I love you, remember?”  
Frank’s gaze snapped back to Gerard. Gerard was smiling at him, holding his hand out for Frank to take.  
Frank obliged in taking Gerard’s hand, feeling sappy and ridiculous, but undeniably happy. They smiled at one another. Frank’s heart fluttered, and for the second time that day, Frank found himself in a moment worthy of blackmail.  
“Ready to order?” The waitress asked, snapping them out of it.  
“Haven’t even looked at the menu, sorry.” Gerard admitted sheepishly, “Give us another minute?”  
“No problem.” She said, ghosting off to another table to check on another set of patrons.  
“Now. Breakfast.” Gerard said, opening a menu and pushing the other towards Frank.  
Frank pretended to look the giant, colorful laminated thing over, though he sort of already knew the drill. There wasn’t much in the way of vegan options at a place like this. French fries, onion rings, has browns, questionable ‘fruit bowls.’ Frank was used to this.  
“What are you gonna get?” Gerard asked, not looking up from his menu.  
“Oh, you know…” Frank replied.  
“No like, what can you even get?” Gerard reiterated, flipping through front-to-back.  
“I promise I won’t let the homophobes ruin this if you promise you won’t let veganism ruin this either.” Frank offered smoothly, raising a curious eyebrow.  
Gerard squinted at Frank skeptically for a moment before sighing and mumbling one word:  
“Deal.”  
  
After learning the oatmeal was prepared with milk, Frank went simple and ordered a plate of french fries.  
 _“That’s really all you want?”_ The waitress asked. Gerard’s eyes wordlessly asked the same thing.  
Frank just nodded and she was on her way, grabbing their menus and taking their order to the kitchen. Frank pretended Gerard hadn’t asked for a double-bacon cheeseburger deluxe to go for Mikey, just like he pretended Gerard hadn’t ordered some 12-egg omelette thing.  
Frank could totally handle dating a werewolf. _Totally._  
“The thing about french fries…” Frank said, once the waitress was out of earshot, “Is that they’re really, really hard to fuck up.”  
The french fries weren’t fucked up at all. Frank couldn’t tell if they were really good or if he was just really hungry, but he picked at them happily, sipping his black coffee every now and then, as he tried not to watch Gerard decimate an egregious amount of eggs and bacon.  
He’d forgotten all about the hunters and homophobes. He was completely under Gerard’s spell. He wondered if it was some kind of werewolf power that drew people in, or Frank was really just that gone for the guy sitting across from him.  
When the check came, Gerard paid. Frank kept his eyes low as he put his coat on and followed Gerard out of the diner, holding three cups of coffee to-go with full bartender grace.  
“Those guys are nothing.” Gerard said, once they were outside.  
“Hmmmm?” Frank hummed.  
“The hunters? The _people_ around here. I can take em, Frank.” Gerard said, “Even if I was just, a regular guy I’d alway try my best to defend your honor... but I’m not. And there’s a very good reason you’ve never seen me fight.”  
“Oh?” Frank asked curiously, lining the cups of coffee up on the roof of Mikey’s car.  
“Before I was um, bitten, I was the softest person imaginable.” Gerard said, carefully placing Mikey’s takeout container in the back seat, “I still try to be. But _now…_ I sometimes don’t even know my own strength. I don’t ever start shit. I try really hard not to.”  
“There’s a lot of macho bullshit that comes with being like this. I get controlling, possessive, needlessly _aggro_. I usually don’t even realize I’m doing it.” Gerard explained, sliding into the driver’s seat and taking the coffee cups Frank passed him, placing them carefully in the cup holders.  
Frank slid in the passenger seat, shivering as he held his cup of coffee close to his chest for warmth. Gerard started the car to get the heat going but made no motion to drive.  
“I don’t start shit.” Gerard repeated, “But I have this way of _finishing it._ ”  
Gerard fumbled with the radio, after he found a station he liked, he left the volume low.  
“I guess my point is, for as long as you’re with me, the only person you have to be afraid of is _me._ ” Gerard finished.  
“But I’m not afraid of you.” Frank pointed out.  
“You say that now…” Gerard started, looking over at Frank.  
Frank just glared back, not looking to start that conversation again.  
“But if you mean it,” Gerard amended, taking the hint, “Then you have no one to fear.”  
With that, Gerard put the car in reverse and maneuvered them out of the parking lot. Frank couldn’t help but notice that Gerard made a right instead of a left.  
“Where are we going?” Frank asked.  
“Just need to pick up a few things.” Gerard said, “There’s a grocery store a few miles down the road.”  
Either it was more than a few miles or Gerard had taken a scenic route. The roads seemed less traveled than the main road. There were only a few lines of tire tracks in the light dusting of snow. Frank stared out the window at the slowly-passing scenery. He was overloaded with processing information as he sipped on his coffee. There was so much to he didn’t understand, so much he was still curious about. He knew he was approaching over-caffeinated, but he was cold enough that he didn’t care. He’d look for herbal tea when they got to the store.  
“Wait…” Frank said, breaking the warm, comfortable silence between them, “But Gerard, they’re _hunters._ ”  
“And?” Gerard asked.  
“Hunters… _ **hunt.**_ ” Frank said, “Mikey let’s you out sometimes. I know he does. Aren’t you afraid they might, I don’t know, _get you?_ ”  
“Mikey only lets me out at night. Who the fuck do you think hunts at night, Frank?” Gerard laughed.  
“I guess… I don’t know?” Frank offered crossly, keeping his eyes out the window so Gerard couldn’t see him frowning.  
“I appreciate your concern.” Gerard said tenderly, placing a hand on Frank’s thigh, “But it would take more than a few bullets to take me down. I’m not afraid of them.”  
Frank just covered Gerard’s hand with his own and nodded solemnly, even though he prayed Gerard was looking at the road in front of them and not at him.  
  
Eventually they made it to the store. Gerard took Frank’s hand as they made their way inside. Frank glanced at the people around them, cataloging their outfits. He felt himself relax a little when he didn’t see a scrap of camo. The store was inhabited mostly by cute little old ladies.  
Gerard led them to the dairy section first. Frank shivered, thinking how the store could save money by just keeping all the shit outside.  
Gerard reached out and grabbed a carton of soymilk.  
“I can’t watch you take another sip of black coffee.” He explained, “Though, I think it might be worse for me than it is for you.”  
“Probably...” Frank smiled, “Are you trying to tell me it doesn’t even give me any baseline douchebag allure? You’re not turned on by black coffee and cigarettes and Kerouac?”  
“I went to college too...” Gerard smirked.  
“Art school.” Frank corrected, “Totally different playing field.”  
“There were still plenty of lit douchebags.” Gerard shrugged.  
“Hey, be nice. I _was_ one of those lit douchebags.” Frank scoffed, “You think I was born with this artificial concept of anarchy and an overwhelming sense of self-importance?”  
“Maybe.” Gerard said, tugging Frank along by his arm, “You wear it so well.”  
“You’re lucky you’re cute.” Frank countered, threading his arm through Gerard’s.  
“I’ve actually thought about this before... Um, I think I probably would’ve been into you, at any point.” Gerard said, “Just, from what you’ve told me.”  
“Even when I was a lit douchebag?” Frank asked skeptically, heart fluttering at Gerard’s suggestion.  
“Especially then.” Gerard agreed, steering Frank down an aisle. Cold medicines, tampons, vitamins, eye drops, _condoms_.  
“You know,” Gerard whispered, eyes scouring the brightly colored boxes, “I don’t think I’ve ever asked you if there’s a particular kind you like.”  
“ _Oh my God, shut up._ ” Frank hissed, glancing around the aisle for any signs that someone might’ve overheard. A middle-aged lady at the far end of the aisle was inspecting a box of cold medicine, clearly not paying them any wind. Frank darted his head the other way. Gerard pressed a kiss to Frank’s cheek, making him blush furiously.  
“What? You feel them just as much as I do.” Gerard leered softly against Frank’s ear, “You really don’t have any preference at all?”  
“I’m usually too um, _distracted_ to notice.” Frank said, swallowing hard, “They’re sort of all the same to me.”  
“Interesting.” Gerard said slowly, grabbing a box off the shelf and tucking it under his arm.  
Frank averted his gaze to the other side of the aisle. _Toothbrushes._ There was nothing sexual about those, not the way Frank used them.  
“Okay so what about _lube?_ ” Gerard asked under his breath, making Frank go pink all over again.  
“Gerard,” Frank muttered, “I swear I will _hurt you_ if you don’t-”  
“Oh I’m hoping you will...” Gerard interrupted, “And if you really have no input we’ll just have to work our way through all of them until we find the ones you like best.”  
Frank spun around to shove at Gerard but stopped short when he saw Gerard had picked out a small, unassuming, clear bottle.  
“Not in one day, of course… We’ve got time, right?” Gerard amended, eyes wide with mock-innocence, “Is there anything else we need to pick up while we’re here?”  
“What the fuck is the cashier gonna think?” Frank laughed, eyeing the soymilk, condoms and lube in Gerard’s hands.  
“What? Are you fifteen? Who cares?” Gerard drawled, “Don’t you wanna get _the fuck_ out of here?”  
Frank nodded, pursing his lips.  
“Let’s go, then.” Gerard smiled, nodding in the direction of the check-out stands.  
  
Frank stared at their purchases on the conveyor belt, pretending to ignore the arm Gerard had wrapped around his waist. He liked that Gerard was so cool with PDA, but his stupid pride was getting in the way. He knew the wolfish man was only being so handsy to get under Frank’s skin.  
“What’s your favorite kind of candy bar?” Gerard asked smoothly, pressing a kiss to Frank’s temple.  
“I can’t eat most of them.” Frank shrugged, “Before I was vegan, though? Maybe peanut butter cups.”  
“Cute.” Gerard commented, “But so like… what do you do when you crave sweet things?”  
“Well, skittles are vegan?” Frank mused, “So are airheads, Oreos. There’s vegan chocolate, too. It’s not hard to find in the city.”  
When Frank looked up into Gerard’s eyes, he could practically see the gears turning as Gerard tried to memorize the information. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against Gerard’s for a quick kiss. Gerard seemed sort of stunned by the kiss, but when Frank pulled away, he smiled.  
Frank kept his eyes away from the sales transaction, not wanting to know what the cashier thought. Gerard paid for their goods and they left the store.  
The grocery bag ended up in the backseat, next to Mikey’s long-cold bacon cheeseburger.  
It seemed to take less time to drive back to the cabin. Frank sort of recognized where they were going in a vague sort of way. They passed a few mailboxes he knew he’d seen before.  
“How are you feeling?’ Frank asked, once the car had traveled up to where roads were windy and mountainous again. The grey light outside was starting to dim a little. The sun was buried behind the clouds, but Frank could tell it was low on the horizon. He’d almost forgotten Gerard was probably going to have to start thinking about the moonrise soon.  
“I’m alright. Starting to feel the pull a little.” Gerard answered honestly.  
 _“The pull?”_ Frank asked, “Like, of the moon?”  
“Yeah. It’s um, common slang among wolves.” Gerard explained.  
“Do you know others?” Frank asked.  
“Nah. Most werewolves are assholes… but not in a loveable sort of way, like you.” Gerard offered fondly, “But you know, you read as much as Mikey does, you pick up on their lingo.”  
“So… what does the pull feel like?” Frank wondered.  
“I wanna take my fucking clothes off. They’re so itchy. And I could maybe eat again?” Gerard laughed, “Also your smell is starting to drive me a little crazy. Glad I won’t be driving for much longer. It’s kind of distracting.”  
“Do you want me to drive?” Frank offered.  
“No. I’ll be okay. We’re almost there anyways.” Gerard insisted.  
Frank studied Gerard in the fading light. His hands were gripping the wheel tightly, though Frank couldn’t tell if Gerard was uncomfortable or just a cautious driver. He was biting his lip, too. Hard. His eyes were focused straight ahead.  
“Distracting how?” Frank asked.  
“Huh?” Gerard echoed.  
“How is my smell distracting?” Frank reiterated.  
“Oh. _That._ Well, uh, you smell really _good_ right now. I already explained that, sort of...” Gerard offered somewhat hesitantly, “I always want you in this mindless sort of way. But um, it’s worse around the moon. The wolf wants you, too. I can feel it burning under my skin. It’s like some weird physiological pre-transition kind of thing, I think? I don’t know. I’m not a fucking scientist.”  
“It… _wants me?”_ Frank asked slowly. He was curious, but also frightened, he could hear the twinge of mania in Gerard’s voice. He was obviously in pain. His breath was coming out all shaky.  
Frank recognized the bottom of the hill in the headlights of the car. They weren’t far from the cabin.  
“It’s not in a sexual way. That piece of it only seems to grace _me._ ” Gerard said sarcastically, “I don’t know. It’s hard to explain ‘cause it doesn’t really make any sense.”  
“You don’t have to explain it.” Frank offered soothingly, “I was just curious.”  
“No. I wish I could explain it.” Gerard breathed, “It’s sort of lonely to never be able to explain all the sensations that come along with this curse.”  
“Like, sex with you...” he added, pulling the car into the driveway and killing the engine, “You have no idea how fucking _amazing_ it is, Frank. To crave something so badly and then to just… _taste it._ ”  
“Do you want to... like, _now?_ ” Frank asked quietly.  
“Only if you do.” Gerard said.  
“I can’t say I’m not curious.” Frank mumbled.  
“Curiosity?” Gerard breathed, “Is that all this is for you? You’re going to _break my fucking heart_ with that...”  
“You know that’s not all this is.” Frank countered, closing the distance between them and kissing Gerard hard.  
A desperate, needy sound escaped Gerard’s lips as Frank unbuckled his seatbelt and tried to fumble his way closer. Gerard pulled Frank closer, tangling his hands in Frank’s hair, kissing the everliving _fuck_ out of him.  
“Not in Mikey’s car.” Gerard protested, in between kisses, “Let’s go in… upstairs… _Please._ ”  
Frank untangled himself from Gerard enough to reach the grocery bag in the back seat. And then he was pushing himself out of the passenger seat, feat crunching through the snow as he made his way up to the house. Gerard was hot on his heels, keys already jingling in his hand.  
They stopped to kiss heatedly at the front door. The grocery bag crackled in between them, dangling loosely from Frank’s gloved wrist. The carton of soymilk dug into Frank’s ribs as Gerard pressed against him. He was so far from caring, not when Gerard was kissing him like his life depended on it.  
Eventually Gerard broke off, panting as he unlocked the door and led Frank inside.  
“What about…” Frank trailed off, glancing in the direction of the kitchen. He could see the lights on, but there was no other indication Mikey was in there.  
“He’ll figure it out. He’s smart.” Gerard laughed breathlessly, grabbing Frank’s hand and tugging him up the stairs, “Besides, I have a feeling you’ll give us away.”  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Frank huffed.  
“You’re loud when you like it.” Gerard pointed out, pulling Frank down the hallway.  
“Am not.” Frank breathed.  
“Well, I’ll have you _talking..._ ” Gerard promised deviously.  
That was the end of discussion for a moment. Gerard closed the door behind them and twisted the lock before turning and shoving his tongue in Frank’s mouth. They were both still in full winter gear. Frank started with his gloves so that he could get to the buttons on Gerard’s coat.  
“I’ve never had you when I’m this close to losing myself.” Gerard whispered  
“You’re not going to change, are you?” Frank asked, worry only lingering on the backburner as Gerard slid his coat off and started sucking marks into his neck.  
“Not yet.” Gerard moaned, shoving Frank back towards the bed, “We have time.”  
He usually let Gerard have control when they got like this, but this was different. There was something sexy about the dominance Gerard was radiating. He wanted Frank more than anyone had ever wanted Frank. Frank was certain of that.  
Frank pulled his remaining upper layers over his head, with Gerard’s help. He shivered against the cool bedspread. Gerard was one step behind him, pulling off his shirt, and pressing into Frank, skin against skin. He was even warmer than he’d been in the morning. He was _burning up._ Frank clung to him, leeching off of his warmth.  
He was starting to think they weren’t going to need the condoms after all, not with how Gerard was grinding against him. He was painfully hard in his jeans, moaning into Gerard’s mouth, losing his battle with self-control. Not that he needed it anymore.  
Gerard arched his back to make room to undo the button on Frank’s jeans.  
“How do you want me?” Frank breathed, on the verge of making some joke about doggy style.  
“Flip over.” Gerard demanded.  
He pulled Frank’s jeans down as Frank fumbled to reorient himself underneath Gerard. Gerard let out a pleased moan as he pressed his hips against Frank’s bare ass. Frank fought with the temptation to rut against the mattress, gasping when he felt the line of Gerard’s hard-on, still trapped in his jeans, pressing against his skin.  
“Where did you put that bag?” Gerard asked, pulling away from Frank. Frank laid still as Gerard searched around in the dark. He heard the familiar crinkling of the plastic, followed by Gerard tearing open the box of condoms, pulling off the wrapper on the lube... He bit his lip as Gerard pulled his jeans off the rest of the way. The mattress dipped under his weight as he situated himself between Frank’s legs. He pressed agonizingly slow, sweet kisses into Frank’s shivering spine. It was taking the rest of Frank’s sanity to not just ride this out on the mattress. He kept his hips as still as he could, knowing he’d regret it later if he didn’t.  
“You taste so good.” Gerard growled.  
His lips kept traveling down until they were at the base of Frank’s spine. Frank heard Gerard pop the cap on the lube, pausing to covering his fingers with it. Frank yelped when he felt Gerard’s tongue slide between his cheeks. He’d been expecting chill, not warmth and oh _fuck_ , he totally would’ve showered before this if he’d been expecting-  
There was little he could do now. He felt the warmth spread to his cheeks, blushing like crazy as Gerard started swirling his tongue around, moaning softly as he licked his way deeper, gently spreading Frank’s cheeks open so he could work his way in. His fingers were slippery with the lube, he couldn’t keep Frank spread open the way he obviously wanted to. Frank was about to reach a hand back to help him when suddenly Gerard was sliding a lube-slicked finger in to join his tongue. Frank hissed at the stretch, arching his back to urge Gerard to press in further.  
Gerard pressed kisses into the base of Frank’s spine as he slid another finger in and then out and then in again and oh Frank had been working so hard to keep quiet.  
“ _So good, Gee._ ” Frank breathed.  
“Was wondering when you were gonna talk.” Gerard answered hoarsely, curling his fingers as he worked to find Frank’s sweet spot.  
“You…” Frank faltered, using every ounce of willpower to not just fuck back onto Gerard’s fingers.  
“Love it when you talk.” Gerard drawled, “You taste _so good_. Fuck, I’ve wanted to do that for… so long, Frank.”  
Frank blushed, closing his eyes and thanking the universe Gerard couldn’t see it in the dark.  
“You like that?” Gerard asked in between kisses, working his lips back up Frank’s spine as he fingered him smooth and steady, not nearly quick or deep enough.  
Frank moaned in confirmation, pressing his face into the bedspread to muffle the noise. He was going to lose his shit if Gerard didn’t hurry up and fuck him already.  
 _“Fuck me.”_ He begged.  
“What was that?” Gerard asked softly, warm breath spilling over Frank’s shoulder.  
“Fuck me, please.” Frank tried again.  
“Alright.” Gerard breathed, pressing his lips against Frank’s shoulder. Frank could feel the smile that spread across his lips. He pulled his fingers out and Frank gasped, bucking his hips at the lack of weight. He felt so desperately empty.  
Frank listened as he heard Gerard tear open a condom packet and roll it over himself.  
“Wanted you all day...” Gerard said softly, running his fingers over the crease where Frank’s ass met the back of his thigh. He popped the cap on the lube and spread more over himself before sliding up against Frank’s ass. Frank was going to kill him if he didn’t push it in. Like actually just roll over and kill him if he kept teasing like this.  
 _“Please.”_ Frank whimpered one last time.  
“Yes. Yes, okay.” Gerard groaned, lining himself up and pushing his way into Frank.  
“Fuck.” Gerard hissed, moving slowly at first, feeling Frank out. He curled his hand between Frank’s hips and the mattress and reached for Frank’s dick. He stroked Frank off, erratically at first, gradually finding a rhythm that fit with the way he was pushing into Frank from behind. He scraped his teeth over Frank’s shoulder, seeming to forget himself for a moment. Frank found it hot, Gerard was too far gone to remember he wasn’t supposed to use his teeth.  
 _“Gerard.”_ Frank gasped, capable of saying little else. He was full, overwhelmed and stretched out and warm everywhere Gerard was touching him.  
“I know, Frankie,” Gerard hummed, “Me too.”  
Frank let out a slew of curse words as his orgasm built, deep and all-encompassing and unforgiving. He had little say in when it finally hit him. Any attempts at trying to fight it would’ve been useless, not that Frank had the willpower to fight it anymore. Gerard slammed into Frank a few more times before collapsing on top of him, cursing and twitching as he came hard. He rode it out, sliding come around Frank’s tip until he was sure Frank was totally spent.  
Panting, he pulled out carefully and lowered himself onto the mattress beside Frank.  
“Shit.” Gerard breathed, “I didn’t break you did I.”  
“I’m definitely broken.” Frank sighed, trying to get up, but giving up when his muscles pulled in protest, “But good broken, not bad broken.”  
“Okay good.” Gerard sighed, slinging an arm around Frank’s middle.  
Frank laid there, letting his breath slowly come back to him. He’d been cold when they started kissing, but now he was sweaty and spent. A shower sounded better than it had when Gerard had started to- His heart fluttered at the thought of what had actually just happened.  
“I love you.” Gerard whispered in the dark.  
Frank didn’t say it back. He was out of breath and caught off guard and totally melted into a puddle of uselessness. He felt Gerard move on the bed beside him.  
“You didn’t um, say it back earlier... In the diner. Or just now.” Gerard pointed out evenly.  
“I know.” Frank admitted.  
“Okay. Just checking.” Gerard said. Frank could hear the disappointment in his voice.  
“I read somewhere once that people are the most honest in the first 8 minutes after they cum.” Frank said, nuzzling closer to Gerard.  
“That sounds like bullshit.” Gerard scoffed, “You can’t believe everything you read.”  
“I know.” Frank said. He fumbled around in the dark for Gerard’s sweatshirt and lifted himself up enough to pull it on. He rested his head on Gerard’s chest, relishing in his warmth. Gerard’s body made a strange noise, sort of like a dry heave.  
“What the hell was that?” Frank laughed.  
“I uh, Frank, I think we might have to cut the cuddling short.” Gerard said, voice devoid of all humor.  
“You mean…” Frank trailed off.  
“Yeah. I gotta go.” Gerard said, voice coming out mangled and forced. It sounded like he was choking on his own breath.  
And just like that, Gerard was lifting himself off the bed and headed for the door. He stumbled out into the hallway and bolted. Frank got up too, much slower than Gerard had. He felt around for his jeans on the floor. They were cold now and he was still covered in lube but he pulled them on anyways and followed after Gerard.  
Gerard had already made it downstairs by the time Frank had wrestled the tight denim on.  
Frank followed after his voice. He blinked against the bright light in the kitchen as his eyes adjusted. A door across the room was open, light poured down a set of stairs. Frank could hear Gerard and Mikey shouting. He followed their voices down the stairs, into the basement.  
A cell took up half of the room. Thick bars separated them from Gerard.  
“Don’t let Frank…” Gerard was starting to say.  
“It’s happening already?” Frank asked, taking in the way Gerard’s body was starting to contort. When Gerard looked up, his eyes had returned to their pale yellow.  
Frank crossed the room and pressed himself up against the bars to get as close to Gerard as he could without climbing inside the enormous cage.  
“I didn’t want you to see me like this.” Gerard growled. His voice didn’t sound like his voice at all. It sent a spike of fear into Frank’s heart.  
Gerard lowered himself to the ground, letting out a dog-like whine as his spine twisted forward.  
“I love you, too.” Frank said, making eye contact with the quickly-transforming creature before him.  
 _ **“I thought you might.”**_ the creature answered, and then Gerard was gone, buried under the fur sprouting out of his skin. Soft lips, shredded away by sharp teeth. The wolf’s teeth clacked as it darted towards the silver-coated bars. It recoiled as soon as it made contact.  
“What do we do now?” Frank asked, voice shaking.  
“We get the fuck out of here.” Mikey said, “And then we wait.”  
Frank took one last look at the large black wolf, pacing back and forth in the cell. It’s bright yellow eyes were almost glowing as it stared Frank down. Frank glanced at the series of locks that kept them apart. He turned his back, trying not to think much of the blood-curdling growl that escaped the creature’s jaws, and followed Mikey back up the stairs.  
Mikey stared at Frank as soon as he’d closed the door, like he wasn’t sure if Frank was about to have a fucking breakdown.  
“You okay, man?” Mikey asked, “Want to smoke a cigarette?”  
There was a loud thump from the basement. Frank could make out the creature’s awful sounds, even through the door that now separated them. Mikey waited Frank out silently. Frank could tell Mikey was listening to the sounds, too.  
“Nah, I’m good.” Frank assured after a moment, unable to tear his eyes off the basement door, “Just uh… Gerard got you a cheeseburger earlier. It’s in the backseat of your car.”


	26. Too Early

Frank wasn’t sure how long he stood there, listening to the sounds the creature in the basement was making. They varied from growls to whines. He couldn’t decide if it sounded like it was in pain or just on the warpath, thirsting for blood. He wasn’t sure if Gerard even thirsted for blood or not. He’d have to ask about that if he remembered. He’d probably remember a question like that. He couldn’t picture the face would Gerard make when he asked it.  
Eventually his legs got tired so he sat on the floor, right by the basement door. He was vaguely aware of Mikey going about his evening. He went out to retrieve his cold cheeseburger, microwaved it, and then ate it quietly in front of his laptop. He didn’t get up for awhile, furiously typing away about something. It reminded Frank that he had to get back to the rest of his life soon. He was sure he had a thousand texts and e-mails, an angry boss - maybe two, one _curious_ Jamia Nestor… Some part of him wished he could stay at the cabin forever and ignore his impending responsibilities. Life in the city had been so cruel in recent times, Frank wasn’t sure if it was even worth the trouble anymore. He’d thought about moving back to slow, quiet Jersey neighborhood he’d grown up in. With a resume like his, he could easily find work out there. But he knew there was too much he’d feel like he was missing. The shows, the bands, his friends, _Gerard…_  
Mikey got up and went out for a cigarette in the cabin’s look-out. When he came back, bringing the smell of cigarettes with him, he grabbed two beers from the fridge and sat down beside Frank.  
“I’d tell you that you shouldn’t sit there all night,” Mikey said, twisting the cap off of one of the bottles and placing it front of Frank, “But that’s exactly what I did the first couple of times.”  
Mikey opened the other beer and took a swig.  
“It doesn’t ever get less weird. I promise.” he added, “One second he’s Gerard and then he’s just… _not.”_  
“But you’ll get used to it.” he added, “Maybe? I don’t know. It’s not really the kind of thing you _get used to_ , but it definitely gets easier.”  
Frank wasn’t sure what to say, so he didn’t say anything. He reached for the beer in front of him and took a small experimental sip. He didn’t feel like drinking, but he also didn’t feel like not drinking. He felt the chill of the liquid all the way down, even as it curled in his stomach.  
Frank could practically feel the vibrations of the creature thrashing to find a way out of it’s cage. It sounded like it would chew it’s way right up through the floor. When he glanced over at Mikey, he seemed completely unaffected.  
Frank wasn’t sure why he’d put all his trust in the cage the Way’s had built. There technically wasn’t much between him and a terrifying, angry wolf. He was far from safe. But he had seen the silver-coated bars. They were thick and clean and reinforced. He trusted them.  
“Is he always so _loud?_ ” Frank found himself asking.  
“Not usually, no.” Mikey offered thoughtfully, “I typically try to get out of the basement before he changes. It howls for longer if it sees me. It definitely saw you, too, so it’s probably pretty antsy.”  
“What do you mean?” Frank asked, noticing that Mikey compartmentalized the wolf and Gerard the same way Gerard had. He treated them like two different entities, skirting around the idea that the creature underneath the floorboards _was_ his brother, and not just some other monster he felt inclined to babysit.  
“Did he explain his overwhelming need to like, _rip you to shreds?”_ Mikey asked pointedly, raising a curious eyebrow.  
“His words. Not mine.” Mikey added, taking in Frank’s horrified expression, “A heightened sense of smell sort of comes with the territory, obviously. But it’s stronger with certain people. Like you for example. He said he could easily find you in a crowd, if he had to. He can tell you’ve been in a room, even after you’ve left. When you dumped him he couldn’t stay in his apartment because of how your smell lingered.”  
Mikey paused to take a swig of his beer.  
“He can do it with me, too.” Mikey said, “But it’s not as… _intense,_ as it is with you. I don’t know. I guess what I’m trying to say is that if that _thing_ in the basement had to pick between the two of us, it would go after you without a moment’s hesitation. For whatever reason, it wants you almost as bad as Gerard does.”  
“I’m not trying to scare you.” Mikey amended, “I just think you should be aware of the kind of danger you’re putting yourself in.”  
“For the record I didn’t dump him.” Frank pointed out, swallowing hard, “We’d have to have been in a relationship in the first place for-”  
“Really not my business.” Mikey interrupted, “But Gerard doesn’t ever let the people he gets with into his apartment. Ever. Even the ones he intends to see more than once. It’s a very strict rule for him. You were different from the start. I’m not saying he’s perfect. I’m not even gonna lie and say he knows the first thing about relationships. But it’s always been different with you.”  
“Even if you didn’t technically _dump him._ ” Mikey added, “He looked worse than Jamia did when that guy broke things off with her a couple years ago. You remember that? What was his name?”  
“Some white guy name...” Frank mused fondly, “Damon? Anthony? Fuck if I remember.”  
“Whatever. He was heartbroken.” Mikey said, “Like _**sending-break-up-mixtapes-to-half-the-labels-on-the-distro-list heartbroken.**_ Thank God Gerard doesn’t have access to that list. Why did she even have that?”  
“I may or may not have had something to do with that.” Frank smirked.  
A blood-curdling howl from the basement wiped the smile right off his face.  
“Um, how many other people have seen him like that?” Frank asked.  
“Just you and me… And our grandmother but she’s dead.” Mikey said thoughtfully, “And I’m pretty sure she always thought it was a metaphor for his drinking problem. Gerard’s always been very into metaphors.”  
“Oh...” Frank said softly.  
“He’s a very private person. Won’t even tell our mom. He says there’s no reason to drag anyone into this unnecessarily.” Mikey sighed, “He barely even let me help him in the first place. I think he’d do it all on his own if he could.”  
“That sounds like Gerard...” Frank agreed.  
They were quiet as another round of thrashing could be heard from the basement. This was totally weird.  
“But, um, Frank, I guess I owe you an apology.” Mikey said.  
“Why?” Frank asked, thinking if anyone should be sorry it should be Gerard. And Gerard was sorry. Really fucking sorry. He’d said it plenty of times.  
“Last night, you asked me why I set you up with him.” Mikey pointed out, “I told you lots of things about him, but not… _this._ And I guess I just… didn’t think things would go the way they did, you know? I knew he’d like you right away. I wasn’t sure if you’d like him back, though. And I really thought he’d _fucking tell you_ before things got serious.”  
“Yeah, well…” Frank scoffed.  
“It just played so different in my head. I’m so sorry you had to find out the way you did.” Mikey reiterated, “I thought he’d tell you and you’d think it was cool.”  
“Cool...” Frank repeated sarcastically.  
“You like dogs, you like horror movies, you like... _guys?_ ” Mikey tried, “Gerard’s... all three at once? A boyfriend who turns into a horror movie dog once a month.”  
“Well when you put it that way…” Frank trailed off, letting out a yawn.  
“You should sleep.” Mikey said, “Gerard won’t be back until the morning.”  
“Where should I set up camp?” Frank asked.  
“You can have the room upstairs that you guys slept in last night, if you want?” Mikey offered, “We also have sleeping bags if you wanna just curl up on the floor like a fucking dog.” When Frank looked over, Mikey was trying to fight a smile and it wasn’t working.  
“I don’t know if I wanna be so far away...” Frank said slowly, in all seriousness, “But I don’t wanna be too close to it either.”  
“I think I know what you mean.” Mikey said, smile fading, “I already set the living room up for Gerard for the morning. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you crashed there.”  
“Okay.” Frank nodded.  
He liked the idea that Gerard could just come curl up once he was human again. He supposed Gerard could do that no matter where Frank decided to sleep, but something about finding his place in the routine Gerard had already built for himself made Frank feel safer.  
Frank downed the rest of his beer and stood up. His vision swam a little. He’d been sitting a long time, he supposed.  
“Oh. One thing...” Frank said, placing his empty bottle on the counter.  
“Sure. What’s up?” Mikey asked, ghosting over to the fridge to grab himself another beer.  
“About the um, _binding._ ” Frank said, “Is there any way to undo it?”  
“We still don’t know if you two are bound for sure.” Mikey pointed out, twisting the cap off his beer and flicking it into the sink, “But as far as I know there’s no undoing it.”  
Frank bit his lip as he considered this information. Mikey waited patiently for Frank to work through it. It wasn’t like this hadn’t been at the back of his mind all day. It totally had. He’d experimented with accepting the idea that Gerard was maybe stuck to him in some weird, magic, forever sort of way. It seemed like a fairy tale almost. But it was a fairy tale meant for witches and princes and knights, where love was an epic end-all, be-all sort of thing. It wasn’t meant for a twenty-first century punk and artist duo who couldn’t even get a first date right. Not to mention, it was probably never meant to befall _two dudes…_  
It was more of a curse for Gerard than it was for Frank. Frank could still walk away unscathed. It wasn’t like they could find the witch who’d created the curse. She’d probably been dead for centuries.  
Frank loved Gerard. He didn’t want Gerard to be tied down. It seemed so unfair that the burden of a curse no one understood the rules of should fall on Gerard’s shoulders, when Frank had been the one to say his name. Frank was half responsible for the outcome.  
“You want another beer?” Mikey asked.  
“Um, sure.” Frank nodded.  
“Just because I haven’t read anything about it doesn’t mean I’m going to stop looking.” Mikey explained, getting a second bottle out for Frank, “But there’s one thing I will say. It probably goes without saying, but whatever…”  
Frank accepted the beer from Mikey and twisted off the cap.  
“Gerard is my brother and I love him.” Mikey continued, “If he’s bound to you… That means the only person who can break his heart is _you._ ”  
“Right...” Frank agreed slowly.  
“So I guess what I’m saying is just… _don’t?_ ” Mikey said simply.  
“Don’t what?” Frank asked, furrowing his brow in confusion.  
“Don’t break his heart.” Mikey said, “I think it would be better if you didn’t.”  
“I mean, I’m not like, actively planning to?” Frank offered, slightly offended Mikey would even suggest it.  
“I think you know what I’m getting at.” Mikey shrugged, “So I’ll skip the death threats.”  
“Cool.” Frank smiled, taking a slug of his beer. No reason to get defensive now.  
Frank studied Mikey’s thoughtful expression for a moment. The creature in the basement let out another howl and Mikey glanced up at Frank.  
“I wasn’t asking because I’m looking for a way out of this.” Frank clarified, “I was asking because it just seems so… _unfair_ to him. I don’t want him to be stuck to me, or to anyone.”  
“While I agree with you, I’m kinda glad it’s you.” Mikey sighed, “There’s worse people he could be stuck with.”  
“Wait, if I can make him change back…” Frank mused, “Couldn’t I just stop him from ever changing again altogether? I could go down there right now and end this, couldn’t I? All I have to do is say his name, right?”  
“I thought about that.” Mikey said, shaking his head, “But I don’t think it works that way. I read somewhere that the creature like, _needs_ to get out sometimes. He’d be stuck with those pre-full-moon side effects all the time if he didn’t let it out.”  
Frank thought about how on-edge Gerard had seemed on the drive home. He could definitely see how that could be a problem in the long-run.  
“You’ve been around him after the full moon before, probably. He sleeps a lot.” Mikey explained, “It takes something out of him. He’s so different before and after, it’s like night and day.”  
“And It can’t be night all the time.” Mikey added, “He’d be insufferable.”  
“No. You’re right.” Frank agreed, taking another sip of his beer. He was starting to feel sort of warm from the alcohol. It was a welcome warmth, but it was making him realize how exhausted he was.  
“Have you ever…” Frank hesitated, “Have you ever tried to console the creature?”  
“Console it?” Mikey asked in disbelief.  
“Maybe it’s just lonely?” Frank shrugged, “Or hungry? Or bored?”  
“Frank, you have to remember that it **is** a monster.” Mikey said sternly, “I try to keep at least one set of silver-coated bars and one door between me and that thing at all times. And I’d advise you to do the same.”  
“It just sounds so upset.” Frank defended.  
“Well yeah, it wants to eat you and it _can’t._ I’d probably be upset, too.” Mikey pointed out, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Fuck. Don’t make me talk to you like that. I hate sounding like a concerned parent.”  
“That _is_ what you sound like.” Frank agreed, “It was just a question...”  
“If you want to go take another look at it, we can. I get that you’re curious.” Mikey went on, “But don’t go all PETA on me. The last thing I need is another fucking werewolf to take care of. One is enough.”  
“Alright.” Frank offered obediently, “I don’t have a deathwish. Or a cursewish, or whatever you wanna call it. I’ll be careful.”  
“That’s all I ask.” Mikey said, running a hand through his hair. He took a long swig of his beer, finishing half the bottle in one chug. He started packing up the paperwork and books spread over the kitchen table, stacking them into a neat pile in the center. He closed his laptop and unplugged the charger.  
“Anyways, I’m going to try and get some shut-eye. I have to be up early to take care of Gerard.” Mikey said, “Are you gonna be okay by yourself?”  
“Yeah.” Frank nodded, “Usually.”  
“If you need anything… I’ll be upstairs.” Mikey offered, “There’s more beer in the fridge if you want it. DVD collection in the den, next to the TV. Don’t watch any of the scary ones. The monster in the basement is enough, I promise. Learned that one the hard way.” Frank watched as the younger Way wandered towards the door, beer in one hand, laptop tucked under the other.  
“Mikey um…” Frank called after him, “Just, _thanks for everything._ ”  
“Shut up.” Mikey commanded fondly, disappearing down the hallway that lead to the stairs to the second floor.  
Frank spent another couple of minutes standing in the kitchen alone, sipping his beer and listening to the creature down below. When he looked towards the basement door he felt a chill run down his spine. There was no way he could go down there alone, even if he wanted to. He was sure of that. The very _thought_ terrified Frank.  
Instead he wandered into the den. All the lights were off but he could make his way by the light from the kitchen that poured down the hall. As soon as he sat on the edge of the pull out bed, he felt incredibly heavy. He glanced at the dark TV across the room, too exhausted to go through the process of picking something to watch and figuring out how to work the TV before being able lay down again. He knew it might help him sleep. He could still hear the creature’s cries floating through the house. It sounded like it was in pain. How did Mikey sleep through it? How did the neighbors never ask about it? The wolf was so fucking _loud._  
  
Frank set his beer down on the floor and fell back onto the pillows, making sure to leave a Gerard-sized space by his side. He couldn’t promise he wouldn’t move in his sleep, but it was all Frank could really do before sleep came crashing down on him.  
~  
  
Frank awoke to the sound of shower water running. He opened his eyes to find dawn spilling in through the cabin’s windows. He pulled the quilts tightly around his shoulders and shivered. He found he didn’t sleep as well without Gerard’s burning furnace of a body beside him.  
He got up slowly, head foggy, mouth dry, and wandered into the kitchen. The basement door hung open. A set of brown-black footprints trailed through the kitchen, leading to the first floor bathroom. The door was closed, but Frank could hear their voices. Gerard was back. Mikey was talking to him softly. He turned and wandered back to the pull-out bed in the interest of giving them their space. He’d ask Gerard more about the post-moon routines when he had the chance.  
The bed wasn’t as warm as it had been. Frank had left the quilt folded back and the sheets had cooled. He remembered something Gerard had said about the room upstairs being the warmest room in the house.  
He rolled himself up in the chilly quilts and focused on the quiet and stillness. There were no more cries from the basement. He fell asleep again easily, breathing in the scent of mothballs and cedar and _Gerard._  
~  
  
Frank felt the mattress dip beside him, pulling him from some dream he was having about driving aimlessly through the woods.  
“I can’t believe you’re still here.” Gerard purred against Frank’s ear.  
Frank was immediately offended in a way that typically required caffeine to deal with. It was too early for Gerard to be starting this shit. His eyes fluttered open. The sun had come up and Gerard’s cold, damp hair was dripping onto his neck.  
“Listen…” Frank croaked out defensively, “You said you were sorry. I know you’re sorry. No more self-loathing from you until we’re back in the city.”  
“Well, fuck you, too.” Gerard laughed, pulling Frank in for a hug.  
It was hard to stay mad when Gerard was so fucking warm. Frank couldn’t help but roll over and press himself against Gerard’s burning skin.  
“Cold?” he asked.  
“Always.” Frank answered.  
Gerard pulled the quilt over their heads and Frank immediately decided he wasn’t mad at all, now that Gerard had made the sunlight go away.  
“I just meant that I know you’re busy.” Gerard explained softly, “I wasn’t trying to guilt-trip you. Too early for that.”  
“Too early.” Frank agreed.  
Gerard ran his fingers through Frank’s hair, making him feel light and empty.  
The quiet was gone. Mikey had music on in the other room. The smell of something very non-vegan wafted into the room. Frank pretended not to notice it and focus on the music. It was too soft for him to make out any of the words, but the tune sounded familiar.  
This was the longest he’d gone without listening to music in a while. He’d have to change that as soon as he was back in New York.  
“You have to go back today though, don’t you?” Gerard asked, “You have work tomorrow.”  
Frank could hear the exhaustion in his voice. He’d technically been up all night. Frank had heard him.  
“Don’t remind me.” Frank groaned, “I’ve been avoiding my seven thousand other problems by focusing on the only one I can’t do anything about.”  
“I see how it is. You think of me as an unsolvable problem?” Gerard teased.  
“Fuck you. I didn’t mean it like that.” Frank grumbled.  
“You’re so mean in the morning…” Gerard sighed, pressing his lips against Frank’s. What Frank had meant to keep as an innocent reciprocation turned _un-innocent_ pretty quick. It was all because Gerard wasn’t wearing a shirt, or pants. Just boxers. He’d just gotten out of the shower, too, so Frank totally got a boner, and why did they have to be in the only room in the whole house that didn’t have any doors?  
It wasn’t Frank’s fault, Gerard had started it by pushing closer and shoving his tongue in Frank’s mouth, pinning him against the creaky, awful mattress.  
“I want you.” Gerard gritted out in between kisses, “Let’s um, let’s go upstairs…”  
“You want me to get up?” Frank complained.  
“I’ll make it worth your while.” Gerard promised, palming at Frank’s dick through his jeans.  
“Please?” he hummed, kissing Frank’s neck.  
Frank couldn’t remember the last time someone had tricked him into getting out of bed with the promise of sex, if ever, but he found himself following Gerard. He shivered all the way up the stairs to the second floor.  
Half asleep, he let Gerard do exactly what he wanted to do. It seemed to require little work on his part anyways. Gerard had him on his back, panting and useless in no time. Frank could see himself getting used to this.  
By the time Gerard was done with him, Frank decided blow-jobs were a much more effective way to start the day than coffee ever had been. Though, he supposed, the reason coffee was a more popular suggestion was because it was so much easier to come by. Something told him they wouldn’t be hard to come by if Frank kept Gerard around.  
It looked like Gerard wasn’t going to make him get out of this bed anytime soon, so he pulled a blanket over them and shuffled closer.  
  
“Thinking about everything I wanna do with you is exhausting.” Gerard said quietly, stroking small circles over Frank’s hip with his fingertips.  
“I don’t know if I could do that again any time soon.” Frank admitted, “Maybe in a few hours…”  
The idea that Gerard’s sexual habits and interests were out in the open was something of a concern for Frank. What about the days when Frank just wasn’t in the mood? Gerard said it wasn’t Frank’s job to satisfy him, but that still left Frank with some curiosity. Did Gerard just jack off all the time? Did he like porn or did he prefer his own fantasies? Was an hour of fucking more satiating than going at it for 5 minutes 3 separate times in an hour? How did he even _do_ that?  
“I wasn’t talking about that.” Gerard said, interrupting Frank’s train of thought. Frank didn’t have to open his eyes. He could hear the smile in Gerard’s voice.  
“I was talking about… everything else.” Gerard went on, “All the places I wanna take you. All the stuff I wanna show you. When you have the time for it, of course.”  
“I’ll make time for it...” Frank promised, heart fluttering.  
Mikey had turned his music up. Frank could hear it more clearly than he could before. That was definitely The Misfits. Of course it was The Misfits. Who else?  
“Can I ask you something though?” Frank asked after a beat.  
Gerard hummed softly, hugging Frank tighter. That was close enough to a ‘yes,’ Frank decided.  
“Why now?” Frank asked, “Why didn’t you wanna do those things before? I mean, I guess I don’t even know what things you’re talking about...”  
“I didn’t think you’d want to go anywhere with me. After the way coffee went that one time…” Gerard mused, “I thought you’d already decided I was no good.”  
“I _am_ no good.” Gerard said, correcting himself, “I lied to you. I don’t deserve to go anywhere with you.”  
“I thought I said no more self-loathing.” Frank said softly.  
“Just being honest.” Gerard mumbled.  
“I wanna go everywhere with you...” Frank said, feeling so corny and sappy he sort of wanted to punch himself in the face, “Seriously, Gee. Wherever. Whenever.”  
“Be careful what you ask for, Frankie.” Gerard said, “I might be forced to take you on a thousand awful dates.”  
“ _Please.”_ Frank begged, “Exactly one thousand.”  
“Just because we survived one date doesn’t mean we’ll survive the rest.” Gerard teased.  
“We haven’t survived any dates.” Frank pointed out.  
“I think breakfast yesterday counted.” Gerard suggested.  
“That?” Frank asked skeptically.  
“Why not?” Gerard asked.  
“I don’t know. I guess that counts.” Frank tutted, “But hey, if we can survive breakfast, we can survive anything.”  
“I’ll do it all.” Gerard promised, “I’ll talk about shit you don’t care about. I’ll brag about my career. I’ll pick a restaurant without any vegan options. I’ll even get food on my shirt...”  
“Do you absolutely promise?” Frank asked.  
“I _**fuckin**_ promise.” Gerard grinned.  
  
They stayed in bed well into the afternoon. Gerard was exhausted so he slept through most of the morning, occasionally waking up enough to press a few sloppy kisses into Frank’s shoulder before dozing off again.  
Mikey must’ve worked his way through the entire Misfits discography, even a few songs post-Danzig, which Frank was embarrassed he recognized so well.  
When the sky was starting to darken again, Frank got up. Gerard had a few more nights of transitions, but Frank had work in the morning. The manhattan grind slowed for no one. Not even busy tour managers with werewolves for boyfriends.  
“I think I have to get going.” Frank announced, kissing the tip of Gerard’s nose.  
“Now?” Gerard asked, half-awake.  
“Yeah. Long drive.” Frank sighed, “Not looking forward to it. Jamia’s car only has a tape player and I hate the radio.”  
“Even the oldies station?” Gerard croaked.  
“Not in the mood.” Frank shrugged, biting his thumbnail.  
“We’ve got a lot of tapes downstairs if you wanna look those over before you go.” Gerard yawned, “Here. I’ll show you.”  
“Don’t get up.” Frank insisted, “I’ll have Mikey show me.”  
Gerard sat up and pushed the blankets off anyways.  
“At least let me give you a proper kiss goodbye.” Gerard said, sliding out of the bed and reaching for Frank. He gathered the punk in his arms and kissed him hard, and deep, and full of feeling. Just when Frank thought they’d exhausted themselves of passion for one weekend, here Gerard was, giving him more.  
“I love you.” Gerard said quietly.  
“Yeah?” Frank breathed.  
“You’re not gonna say it back?” Gerard mumbled.  
“I love you, too.” Frank said, pecking him on the lips.  
“Asshole.” Gerard whispered, releasing his hold on Frank and dropping back down onto the bed.  
Frank turned to leave, trying to remember where he’d left his coat, his jacket, his cellphone.  
“You’re going back to my place, right?” Gerard asked, pulling the quilts up over himself.  
“Um… I was gonna stay at J’s.” Frank said.  
“You know you can stay at my place if you want to.” Gerard said, “You’re always welcome.”  
“Alright.” Frank nodded, studying Gerard for one final moment before slipping out of the room.  
  
The tape collection was unreal.  
“This place hasn’t changed since the fucking 90s.” was all Mikey said before returning to his laptop.  
Frank left the cabin with his two favorite Smashing Pumpkins albums and a dust-covered copy of Alkaline Trio’s ‘ _Goddamnit,_ ’ all on tape. He knew they wouldn’t last him the whole drive, but Frank didn’t even care. He was about to sing his fucking heart out on the interstate and no one would be there to judge him.  
~  
  
Frank stopped for gas before he really hit civilization. He sent a text to Jamia, telling her he’d be by to drop the car off before going back to Gerard’s. He blatantly ignored the other five thousand text messages he’d been avoiding all weekend. By the time he was done filling up the tank she’d already texted back to confirm. Frank swallowed hard, trying to figure out what the fuck he was going to tell her. He could tell her everything but the monster in the basement part. Oh, and the part where he’d almost been mauled to death by a hungry wolf under an ancient witch’s’ curse.  
He and Gerard had made up. They’d gone on a real date and they had even talked about going steady from now on. That was probably enough for Jamia and her twisted desire to know absolutely _everything._  
Driving through the city was strange. Every time Frank stopped at a light and looked at the people waiting to cross the street, he thought about how most of them had no idea that werewolves were real. They had no idea they could stop for a smoke in an alley and experience a life-changing animal attack.  
Frank didn’t know if ignorance was bliss or not. He was happier now that he knew. He was happy to have a boyfriend, even if he was literally a monster sometimes.  
  
Finding a place to park Jamia’s car on her block was all the assurance Frank needed that he was 100% done with New York City and all it’s bullshit. He’d start job hunting on the other side of the river as soon as he had a moment to think. Mikey’s arrangement of working remotely also sounded tempting. He’d have to ask his boss about that as soon as he was back in the office. As soon as he got to Jamia’s apartment, she wanted to know everything. No surprises there. Frank mumbled some excuse about needing to go to bed and promising to tell her everything over drinks some other day.  
She wouldn’t accept that, though. Of course she wouldn’t. As soon as she found out that Gerard was still out in the woods somewhere, she practically followed Frank to the subway station.  
Gerard wasn’t home, so Frank figured, what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Frank could bring her back to the apartment for one night. As far as he knew there was nothing there that would give Gerard’s secret away. Frank had practically _lived_ there and had no idea what was up.  
“So, the sex was good?” Jamia asked once they were on the subway platform.  
Even the subway platform was so jarringly loud, it took Frank a few minutes to adjust to the noise coming from the trains and all the other people standing around. People. Fuck. He glanced around to make sure no one had heard her. No one looked particularly interested in their conversation so he looked back towards his friend.  
“Um?” Frank faltered.  
“That’s why you’re so chill right now, isn’t it?” She noted.  
“You’re unbelievable.” Frank said, shaking his head.  
“You’re not denying it.” she pointed out.  
“Whatever. I’m not high-fiving you...” Frank swore.  
He practically jumped when the train came rushing into the platform.  
It took all his strength to not laugh when Jamia said,  
“What? It’s just a train. It’s won’t _bite.”_  
~  
  
They stopped at the corner store on their way back to the apartment. Frank needed something stronger, really, but the liquor store had closed early since it was Sunday.  
“Ok… A mini-mart open past 10?” Jamia asked, “No wonder you like staying at his place so much more than mine.”  
Carrying two six packs in black plastic bags, Frank led Jamia to Gerard’s apartment building. He didn’t think they’d end up drinking quite that much, but it was better to get more in case they wanted more. The mini-mart closed at 10:30, after all, though Jamia was still impressed.  
He couldn’t imagine Gerard would say ‘no’ if Frank had asked if he could have a friend over, not that Frank had asked, or even had any way of asking. This was fine. He was just having an old friend over for a few beers. Nothing to freak out about. He glanced up at the sky and wondered if Gerard had turned yet. He probably had. He was probably howling away in some basement halfway between Manhattan and the U.S./Canada border.  
Jamia seemed curious as they made their way through the empty, echoey lobby, taking the stairs instead of the elevator like he always did when he came home with Gerard. Frank unlocked the locks and shouldered into the silent, dark apartment. He flicked on the lights and went into the kitchen to shove the beer in the fridge. He grabbed one for each of them and led Jamia into Gerard’s living room to sit on the couch.  
“Wow, Frankie.” she gasped, “This place is beautiful.”  
“It’s alright.” Frank smirked, cracking Jamia’s beer and setting it on a coaster on the coffee table before cracking his own.  
“Aren’t you gonna show me around?” she asked.  
“Let me put on music first...” Frank insisted, remembering his earlier vow to listen to music once he got to the city.  
Frank showed Jamia around the small apartment, not sure what details he was supposed to point out. The wilting flowers Gerard had tried to give him on Valentine’s day, now hanging on the kitchen wall? The bed Gerard liked to pin him to? The couch they laid on at the end of each work day? The kitchen Gerard rarely cooked in?  
Jamia lingered in Gerard’s office for a while, asking questions about his art. Some of them Frank could answer, though most, he couldn’t. It made him realize just how much about Gerard he still didn’t know. It was stuff he wanted to know. He almost wanted to write his questions down so that he didn’t forget them.  
They settled back on the couch after Jamia was satisfied.  
“I always wanted to date an artist.” Jamia admitted, cracking open her third beer, “You’re so lucky.”  
“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.” Frank argued, “They’re spacey. And _weird._ ”  
“Think of the romance, though. You could make them draw on every inch of you.” Jamia mused, “Don’t get me started on paint. ‘Draw me like one of your french girls.’”  
Frank looked around for something to throw at her, but came up short. Stupid, tidy Gerard.  
“First of all, gross. Second of all, it’s not good for the pens. Especially if they’re felt tip.” Frank blurted.  
“You’re no fun.” she protested, “And also a fucking _nerd._ ”  
Frank lifted the remote to turn on the TV to look for a movie for them to watch. All the driving had made him tired. No, life was just making him tired. He’d been through a lot for one weekend. He vowed to spend the following weekend on the couch in his underwear to make up for it. He’d also just remembered there was probably still a box of the microwaveable vegan burritos he liked in the freezer and they were about to make excellent drunk food.  
“So when are you moving in?” Jamia asked.  
“We’ve officially been a couple for 48 hours.” Frank pointed out, voice oozing sarcasm.  
“So? You’ve been an unofficial couple _forever._ ” Jamia argued.  
“I don’t know, J.” Frank sighed, “We should really probably take things slow.”  
“People always say that but they never ever mean it.” Jamia tutted.  
“Well if he asked, I guess I wouldn’t say ‘no.’” Frank said.  
“So, you’d say ‘yes’ then?” she asked.  
“I don’t know.” Frank groaned.  
“You’d say ‘yes.’” Jamia offered.  
“I’d say ‘yes.’” Frank admitted, “But he’d never ask me, J.”  
“Five bucks says he will.” Jamia said.  
“Fifteen says he won’t.” Frank scoffed, taking a long swig of his beer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> frank has lots of questions...  
> 


	27. Fucking Boyfriends

“So I think I’m going to ask Frank if he wants to move in with me...” Gerard said, testing the words out as he considered slurping more latte out of the tiny hole in the lid of his disposable cup. He’d thought about asking for a lid with a wider hole, even though he knew Starbucks didn’t provide such things. He was so exhausted from getting through worst of the lunar cycle there was no way he could consume the burnt excuse for espresso fast enough.  
They’d stopped for Starbucks drive-thru and Mikey had pulled into a parking spot to briefly savor his macchiato for a moment before hitting the road again.  
“Do you think that’s a bad idea?” Gerard asked when it was clear Mikey wasn’t going to comment.  
“I dunno… Don’t you wanna give him some time to adjust first?” Mikey asked gently, “I don’t think it’s a bad idea, per se, but Gee, isn’t that taking things a little... _fast?”_  
“Nothing else about us has ever been conventional. Why should this have to be?” Gerard mused.  
“People wait to move in together for a very good reason.” Mikey offered, “Sorry if I sound like mom right now, but don’t you wanna figure out how to walk before you _run?”_  
“I do.” Gerard agreed thoughtfully, “I just want everything on the table, you know? Like, I just want him to know that he _could_ if he wanted to. Since he doesn’t have a place lined up right now anyways.”  
“Well, there’s no harm in asking.” Mikey sighed, “The worst he can do is say ‘no.’”  
“I’d probably chicken out anyways.” Gerard sighed, “Things are weird enough. I don’t need to make them weirder...”  
“Probably not.” Mikey agreed.  
“I don’t know. It was just an idea.” Gerard mumbled defensively, more for himself than for Mikey’s sake.  
 _“No harm in asking.”_ Mikey repeated, “But knowing you, you’d definitely chicken out.”  
  
Gerard was still dwelling on it once they were back on the interstate. Things would be so much easier for Frank if he just _stayed._ And Gerard wanted him to stay. He already sort of knew what living with Frank would be like, and he wanted it.  
Frank was busy all the time, to the point that he was almost never home. He always put the cap back on the toothpaste so Gerard had to unscrew it if he wanted to brush his teeth, which was cute in this uptight kind of way. He put music on as loud as he wanted, regardless of it was a weeknight or not. In general, Frank seemed to have little to no regard for the neighbors, if the noisy demands he made when Gerard had him pinned to the mattress were anything to go by. Gerard knew his neighbors were probably sick of the latenight run-throughs of the Jawbreaker discography, and the detailed (often loudly moaned) descriptions of how nice Gerard’s dick felt. But Frank wasn’t.  
Gerard would have to make way for tofu and beer and weed and twice as much laundry. He’d have to share his office. His _drawing space._ When he went out, he’d have to tell someone where he was going, when he’d be home. He’d have to deal with the pre-moon symptoms beside someone who actually knew what the fuck was going on with him. He’d have to _explain himself._  
But he could handle all of it. He wanted it, even. But trying to come up with a smooth, subtle way to ask Frank was so daunting that Gerard managed to exhaust himself enough to sleep the rest of the way to Manhattan.  
Before he knew it, they were sitting in end-of-weekend traffic, just a mile or two from Gerard’s apartment. When he woke up, Mikey was on the phone with his Alicia, complaining about the traffic he was likely to hit on the Brooklyn bridge, asking if she needed him to pick up anything on his way over.  
 _“That’s gonna be us...”_ Gerard thought to himself, and he immediately felt nervous.  
Fuck getting a few dates right. If they lived together, Gerard would have to get _every single day_ right. Which was difficult for a person who, around the full moon, experienced mood swings more frequently than their heart could beat.  
  
A few traffic maneuvers of questionable legality - Mikey had blatantly cut off that cabby for no good reason, and crossed the double yellow lines to pass a limo - and Gerard was sliding out of the car and onto the curb in front of his apartment. He thanked his brother endlessly as he pulled his bag out of the backseat.  
“You owe me one.” was all Mikey would say. Smugly, of course.  
Gerard just smiled at his brother. The last time he’d owed Mikey one it had led him to Frank. He could handle owing Mikey one every once in awhile.  
Gerard watched Mikey’s tail-lights get smaller and smaller as his car sped down the block. When they were gone, he turned to face his apartment. When he glanced up at his floor and saw that the lights were on, which meant that either Frank was there, or he’d left the lights on again.  
Gerard pretended like he hadn’t been hoping Frank would be there all fucking day as he took the stairs up to his apartment. The first thing he noticed when he got to his floor was the smell of burning. It wasn’t like wood burning, like he’d been smelling for the last several days. It was more like _cooking_ burning. This was pretty normal, living in a New York apartment, but as Gerard made his way down the hallway, he realized the burning was coming from _his_ apartment.  
He quickly unlocked his door and hurried inside. A layer of smoke hung around the living room, making everything hazy, like someone had smoked a couple cigarettes with all the windows closed. The smoke was drifting out of the kitchen.  
 _“Motherfucker.”_ Gerard heard Frank curse.  
Gerard made his way to the kitchen and paused in the doorway. He wasn’t sure if he should be more concerned by the charred mess in his frying pan or the fact that Frank had been trying to fry whatever it was without a shirt on.  
“Are you _trying_ to set my apartment on fire?” Gerard laughed, accidently startling the shit out of Frank. He dropped the spatula as he spun around, eyes wide.  
Gerard dropped his bag on the floor and closed the distance between them, pulling Frank in for a hug.  
“It’s only been a couple days and you’re... Already trying to burn all the evidence that you and I ever happened?” Gerard asked, breathing Frank in.  
“What the fuck did I say about self-loathing?” Frank muttered fondly, wrapping his arms around Gerard.  
“You said I had to stop until I got back to the city.” Gerard reminded, squeezing Frank tighter.  
“Is that what I said?” Frank asked, burying his face in Gerard’s coat.  
“What were you _actually_ doing?” Gerard asked, eyeing the frying pan again.  
“I was trying to see if I remembered how to fry hamburgers...” Frank mumbled around the wool, “Turns out I really fucking don’t.”  
“Those are... very, **very** not vegan.” Gerard commented curiously, wrinkling his nose as he registered the burning smell as charred beef.  
“Well they weren’t going to be for me.” Frank scoffed, pulling away enough to look up at Gerard, “I thought you might be hungry when you got back.”  
“I…” Gerard faltered, “You touched meat for me? Like, _slaughtered_ meat? All ground up?”  
“You... _dog._ ” Frank gasped, swatting at Gerard’s arm, “Don’t remind me.”  
Gerard’s eyes widened, almost comically so. He hadn’t been expecting Frank to make jokes about it so quick. He hadn’t expected Frank to act like things were normal. Not for _awhile._  
 _“What?”_ Frank asked, “Too soon?”  
“Well if there’s nothing bloody to chew on…” Gerard smirked, recovering easily from his surprise, “I’ll just have to eat _you_ up instead.”  
He ducked down to plant an open-mouthed kiss on Frank’s neck.  
“Please.” Frank breathed.  
Gerard caught Frank’s mouth in a slow, careful kiss, letting his fingertips glide up along Frank’s spine. This was too perfect. Gerard wasn’t sure what the fuck he’d done to deserve this, but he was too exhausted to question it.  
He’d honestly just meant to kiss Frank a few times, just as a polite greeting, but the way Frank’s fingers clutched at his coat after those few times had Gerard kissing him deeper. He tried to push Frank up against the counter, but Frank pushed back. Not in the kitchen, then.  
They kept kissing as Frank guided Gerard towards the living room. They kissed heatedly, bumping into things as they went. Frank was already half-undressed, and he tried, with little success, to get Gerard all caught up. By the time they got to the couch Gerard was out of his coat, staring up at Frank hungrily, trying to get his belt buckle undone.  
This wasn’t about Gerard at all, though. He wasn’t sure why Frank was in such a hurry when they had all fucking night, but he didn’t ask. He just helped Frank with the button and fly on his jeans and kissed him hard. Frank sunk his teeth into Gerard’s lip, urging Gerard to push back with strength he barely had. It took Gerard a moment to react. He was so used to leading things that Frank’s urgency was catching him completely off guard. He thought they’d maybe… talk? Hang out? Something, _anything,_ before diving into sex like this. It was a little late to say something, though. Gerard figured himself out and fumbled to get Frank on his back, getting a hand around Frank’s dick as soon as he was pinned down. Frank lifted his hips up into it, letting out a desperate, needy groan.  
He could get used to coming home to this, he thought idly, pressing a sloppy kiss to the side of Frank’s mouth. Frank was already coming undone under him, moving his lips down to mouth at the skin over Gerard’s collar bone. He was fucking hard and leaking against Gerard’s palm.  
“You’re so _hard.”_ Gerard breathed, stating the fucking obvious.  
Frank mumbled something against Gerard’s skin, but Gerard missed it, entirely way-too-caught-up in the sliding _weight_ of Frank’s dick in his hand.  
“Bite me.” Frank insisted, “Wanna feel your _fucking teeth_ , Gee.”  
Something clicked inside Gerard. He was almost startled out of the moment entirely. What if Frank had caught it? What if this was just the beginning and Frank was stuck like this forever too?  
 _“Please.”_ Frank begged.  
Gerard snapped back into focus, rubbing his thumb over the head of Frank’s cock as he flicked his wrist. He leaned down, sinking his teeth into Frank’s neck, sucking hard on the skin.  
Frank moaned for him beautifully then, urging him to do it again. Gerard obliged, biting down on Frank’s shoulder. Hard enough to leave a mark, hard enough for it to _hurt._ Frank was clearly very fucking into it, pressing desperately into Gerard’s hand.  
It felt good to let himself go enough to enjoy it. Gerard gave in to the act, nipping at Frank’s skin and then running his tongue over the abused skin gently, carefully. He was so distracted by how satisfying it was, he almost didn’t notice Frank coming all over, breathing Gerard’s name like it was a fucking prayer.  
Frank panted into the gentle kiss he shoved against Gerard’s lips.  
“Fuck.” He sighed, going limp against the cushions.  
Gerard lowered himself onto the sliver of space between Frank and the back of the couch, eyeing Frank curiously.  
“Is that something you’re um… _into?_ ” Gerard asked carefully.  
“What?” Frank asked.  
“Biting.” Gerard clarified.  
“Oh. That. Um… I don’t know?” Frank answered, “It just felt… right? I don’t know. If it was weird… we don’t have to-”  
“It wasn’t weird.” Gerard amended, pushing Frank’s hair out of his face, “Just… you’ve never asked me to do that before.”  
“I’m not so good at the asking part...” Frank offered, “Always been more of a spur-of-the-moment kind of guy.”  
“Is there… anything else?” Gerard asked, “That you might wanna try?”  
“Stick around and you might find out.” Frank leered, palming at Gerard through his jeans.  
“Maybe later.” Gerard insisted, grabbing Frank’s wrist and placing it firmly against the cushion above his head.  
“No fun.” Frank groaned.  
Gerard tore his shirt off and used it to wipe off the majority of the mess on Frank’s torso. He tossed the shirt onto the floor-boards to deal with later, aiming away from the carpet. He pulled the blanket hanging off the back of the couch over them and wrapped an arm around Frank’s middle.  
An unfamiliar scent registered in his nostrils as he snuggled up to Frank.  
“Did you have someone over?” Gerard asked before he could even think about it.  
“Oh. Uh, _yeah._ Forgot to mention that.” Frank said sheepishly, “Jamia wanted to know why I’m always having sleepovers with you instead of her. Your place is way nicer than hers...”  
“You’re just with me for my apartment, aren’t you?” Gerard teased gently.  
“No way.” Frank protested, rolling over to glare at Gerard, “How could you even-”  
“Kidding.” Gerard interrupted, “But seriously, Frank, my place is yours… do whatever you want with it while you’re here.”  
Something inside Gerard told him to look away, to not stare Frank down so seriously as he said it, but he held Frank’s gaze.  
“Think of it as home.” Gerard offered gently.  
“‘Kay...” Frank answered weakly.  
Gerard reached across Frank to grab the TV remote. He clicked it on and rested his head against Frank’s chest as the picture faded into life. Commercials were on. He dropped the remote without even bothering with changing the channel.  
“I thought of some things I wanted to ask you.” Frank said, “Y’know… _Wolf stuff.”_  
“Ask away.” Gerard said, staring blankly at the TV screen. He listened to Frank’s heartbeat in his chest, paired with his even breathing. It was soothing, familiar. Gerard felt heavy, ready to drift off already.  
“Okay.” Frank said, reaching up a hand to card his finger’s through Gerard’s hair, “So _silver…”_  
“Never really been my color.” Gerard answered automatically.  
“But are you… allergic to it?” Frank asked.  
“That’s one way of putting it.” Gerard offered, “It fucking... burns.”  
“So what do you do about… silverware then?” Frank pressed.  
“Do I seem like the type of person who goes to places where people eat with actual silver?” Gerard asked.  
“I guess not…” Frank answered thoughtfully.  
Gerard turned his head a few inches to press a kiss against Frank’s ribs.  
“Ok, well what about hearing.” Frank asked, “Dogs have like, way better hearing than people do.”  
“I don’t think it’s changed much since I was bitten.” Gerard said.  
“But sense of smell.” Frank pointed out, “That’s heightened?”  
“Yeah.” Gerard said, taking a deep breath of Frank, and home, and charred meat, “It’s heightened.”  
“Sex drive, too.” Frank said. It wasn’t in the form of a question, but Gerard still treated it like one.  
“It’s mostly bad as it gets closer to the moon.” Gerard commented.  
“Bad? How could that possibly be a bad thing?” Frank asked.  
“Ask me again in about… two weeks.” Gerard said, smiling to himself. He tried to remind himself how soon the next full moon was as little as possible. The thought almost made the smile disappear from his face. Almost. He was too happy to be alone with Frank to let anything actually ruin it.  
“So… the binding curse thing?” Frank asked. Gerard felt himself tense up immediately. He lifted his head up to look at Frank. His blood froze when their eyes met.  
“Mikey told me about it.” Frank said slowly, “What are we… what are we gonna do about that?”  
“You aren’t going to do anything about it.” Gerard said, “If I find a way to get out of it, I’ll let you know. In the meantime, I need you to pretend it never happened.”  
“But _Gerard-”_ Frank argued  
“I’m just your boyfriend.” Gerard said, “Do you understand that? If you get tired of being with me, don’t think twice about the curse. _Dump me._ It’s my fault I was bitten, not yours. The curse is also my problem, _not yours.”_  
“We’re using the ‘B’ word now, huh?” Frank asked quietly.  
 _“Fuck yeah_ we’re using the ‘B’ word.” Gerard argued.  
Frank just stared at Gerard thoughtfully for a moment. His gaze was so intense, Gerard could barely hold the stern expression on his face.  
“If you want to, I mean.” Gerard amended, giving in. He lowered his head against Frank’s chest again and stared at the TV again. The volume was way down. He vaguely recognized the movie that was playing. He didn’t care enough to really think about it, though.  
“I’ve wanted to for… _awhile.”_ Frank admitted, trailing his fingertips over the back of Gerard’s neck, “Maybe since we started hooking up… I don’t know.”  
“Me too.” Gerard said, returning the favor by idly running his fingers over the tattoos on Frank’s arm, “It’s good we waited though… I don’t know if I was ready at first.”  
“Yeah...” Frank agreed.  
They were quiet then. Between the silence and the quiet talking sounds coming from the TV, Gerard felt like he could literally hear everything between them finally settling into place. He felt heavy and exhausted. Even blinking was too much work, so he kept his eyes closed.  
“It doesn’t have to be just your problem, you know?” Frank said after awhile, “I want to help you. I want to get you out of this.”  
“I don’t think there’s any getting out of this.” Gerard explained, eyes getting heavy, “That’s why they call it a curse, Frank.”  
~  
  
Gerard woke the next morning to a mint-toothpaste ‘good morning and goodbye’ kiss from Frank. It felt strange to be back in some sort of routine already, but he couldn’t just forever ignore that they both had jobs to get back to… As much as he would’ve liked to.  
With Frank around for part of the last full moon, it felt like it had gone on for a thousand years. Gerard had completely forgotten about life outside of his miserable curse. He was almost relieved to have to go into the art store for an afternoon shift so he’d be forced to stare at all the art supplies he’d been neglecting at home.  
He got out of bed shortly after Frank left to spend some quality time in the shower. The cabin’s water pressure was bullshit, and it never ever got as hot as the boiler in the basement of Gerard’s apartment building. The steamy, hot water helped his aching muscles untense to the point that he felt almost normal once he was out of the shower and curling up on the couch. He nestled against the couch cushions, breathing in Frank’s scent, trying to wrap his head around the idea that he’d somehow ended up with someone who knew his deepest, darkest secret and somehow managed to love him anyways in spite of it.  
Frank had gotten up early enough to make a pot of coffee and Gerard wasn’t sure if he wanted to pass out again or get up and make himself a cup. Another hour of dozing away won at first, but eventually he got up, joints popping, and prepared himself to face the day.  
  
It felt weird to walk into work. It was almost as weird as it had been the first time Gerard had gone back in after his first full moon. The fact that life could just go on and always went on, even when he’d been locking himself in some basement and turning into a monster all weekend, made it hard to act normal. In mid-afternoon when all the art school classes got out and the art students started to wander in, Gerard had a hard time wrapping himself in discussions of comics and art mediums like he usually could. His mind was elsewhere.  
He was still fucking worried Frank had caught it. Frank had just been acting so... not-Frank-like when he’d gotten home the night before. And honestly, if Frank had caught it, Gerard didn’t know what the fuck they were gonna do. He’d never considered this problem before. This was just another reason why he didn’t let lovers stick around. It wasn’t _safe._  
And even if Frank hadn’t caught it. Gerard didn’t know what he’d say if Frank asked about it. He wanted to believe he’d tell Frank there was _‘no way in hell’_ he’d turn him but Gerard had never denied Frank anything before. He didn’t know if he could.  
Frank hadn’t brought it up, and maybe wouldn’t ever, but there was still a chance he might. The punk’s curiosity in all things wolf had been so endearing to Gerard the night before, but now it was just a source of worry. He didn’t think he’d be alright until he saw Frank was still acting like _Frank._  
Gerard’s shift dragged on and on. He swept the aisles twice, faced all the paint primers in aisle nine, and even had time to flip through a few of the zines the art students had left as handouts at the counter before it was time to leave.  
Gerard remembered then though, that it was a bar night for Frank. He’d be bartending until late.  
As soon as he was out of the art store, saying his goodnights to Ray, he thought about going to the bar to see Frank. He even took a few steps in the direction of the subway station he’d need to take to get him there. He knew he was just excited and also fucking worried, but he didn’t want to start off being _that kind of boyfriend._ He didn’t want Frank to think he’d show up everywhere all the time, expecting to be together every second. The last thing he needed after everything was a reputation for being clingy, even if he maybe totally fucking was.  
Gerard turned on his heels and headed for home...  
~  
  
As soon as he was pulling off his coat and popping a mug of cold coffee into the microwave, his phone was ringing. He pulled his phone out to find Mikey was calling him.  
“Wasn’t expecting to hear from you for a few days...” Gerard said after he’d answered the call, “Aren’t you still totally sick of me?”  
“I don’t have time to beat around the bush right now, so yes, _I admit it._ I’m sick of you.” Mikey said, “But I also need your boyfriend to stop coming into my office asking questions about ancient curses.”  
“Oh.” Gerard breathed, playing dumb, “Huh.”  
“Well… Did you guys talk about that?” Mikey asked in a hushed tone, “Like, _at all?_ Or did you just pretend it’s not happening like you’ve done with everything else.”  
“No we… talked about it.” Gerard said, eyeing the mug spinning in the microwave, “A little…”  
“Well I think you need to talk about it a lot more.” Mikey countered, “Because he’s making me _fucking nuts.”_  
“That’s what you get for setting us up in the first place.” Gerard joked, “You’re the referee.”  
 **“I’m not a fucking referee.”** Mikey said coldly, “This isn’t cute, Gerard. I need you to make it stop. I have fiscal reports to turn in! Do you know what fiscal means? _Money stuff_. And you know how much I fucking hate money stuff.”  
“I’ll see what I can do.” Gerard offered evenly.  
“Thank you.” Mikey sighed, and ended the call.  
  
Gerard went straight to his desk, abandoning his re-animated coffee. Maybe he could work out some of what he was feeling on paper. He hadn’t let himself really think about what it would mean if he was bound to Frank. He’d been putting it off. It _was_ easier to pretend it hadn’t happened. Gerard couldn’t blame Mikey for accusing him of that.  
Gerard had been dealing with his transitions for so long, he was resigned to it. He’d be a monster for the rest of his life. He’d given up on finding a way to make it go away long before he’d met Frank. But he remembered how curious he was about finding a way out at first. He supposed he shouldn’t be so surprised Frank was just as curious.  
He wasn’t sure why he’d even bothered sitting down at his desk. He just stared at the blank page in frustration for several minutes. He touched his pen tip to the page and doodled a small spiral in the corner. Fucking boyfriends. Fucking curses. Fucking witches. Fucking wolves.  
He got up to put music on, but he couldn’t find anything he liked as his fingers skimmed over the titles on the small stack of CDs in the corner. He went instead for the records in the living room. He could put something on loud enough to hear from across the apartment. He settled on a Jawbreaker record. Fucking _boyfriends._  
The microwave dinged to remind Gerard of his reanimated coffee. He fished his cigarettes out of his coat pocket on his way back to the microwave. He juggled the pack of cigarettes, his lighter, and the mug of coffeeback towards his office.  
He stopped short though, glancing into the pitch black of his bathroom. Gerard fumbled his way through the dark, pausing to carefully place the mug and his cigarettes on the floor next to the tub, before crawling into the bath tub. The tub was cold underneath him. He could feel the subtle chill sinking in through his clothes.  
Gerard reached over for his cigarettes and sparked up. He thought about calling his mom, just to hear her voice, _just to distract himself from Frank,_ but he could already hear her asking if he was smoking.  
He hadn’t bothered to crack a window and he knew he’d regret that tomorrow when the whole place smelled like stale cigarettes, but once he was curled up, he couldn’t picture himself getting up again. There also wasn’t anywhere convenient to flick the ashes. He considered between the drain and the reanimated coffee he probably wasn’t going to drink anyways, deciding on the drain. He leaned forward to tap his cigarette over the drain and resettled himself.  
It was comfortable in an uncomfortable sort of way. Gerard stared vacantly up at the shower head, glimmering in the dim light spilling in from the hallway. He thought of all the water that had passed through those tiny holes. There was no new water in the world. Some of it had probably been pissed out by other people Frank should’ve actually ended up with, reprocessed, and then shot out of Gerard’s showerhead. He wasn’t really sure if that was how sewage processing worked, but did anything fucking matter anymore?  
~  
  
Gerard was still in the tub when Frank finally came home. He was almost startled by the ‘hello?’ Frank called out, breaking the otherwise perfect silence. The Jawbreaker record had ended a long time before.  
 _“In here.”_ Gerard tried to call out, but it came out as nothing more than a groggy whisper. He cleared his throat and tried again.  
“Hey Frank!” Gerard said. His voice echoed off the bathroom walls in a satisfying way. He glanced over at the hallway and listened as Frank took his coat off and wandered through the apartment.  
Frank walked right past the bathroom and into the bedroom, then the office, then the kitchen, then the living room.  
“Gerard?” Frank called out.  
“In here.” Gerard said again, feeling almost childish for not just getting out of the fucking bathtub to go greet him.  
Frank stepped into the doorway of the bathroom and flicked the lights on. Gerard immediately squeezed his eyes shut against the brightness.  
“What’re you doing in here?” Frank laughed. He closed the lid on the toilet and perched on the edge, leaning over to inspect Gerard’s strange, obviously-uncomfortable choice of positioning.  
 _“Wait, don’t tell me.”_ Frank said, getting up to turn the light off again, “You’re a creature of the night. Of course you like sitting in the dark. You don’t have to explain yourself. How rude of me.”  
Gerard couldn’t decide if Frank was fucking serious or not. He blinked in the darkness, letting his eyes adjust to it again.  
“I’m not a… vampire.” Gerard laughed, “Um, how was work?”  
“You’ve got the whole dark, sultry thing going on. Coulda fooled me…” Frank said, “Um, work? Work was bad.”  
“How come?” Gerard asked.  
“My manager sent me home early cause I was being kinda… _moody?_ I guess? ‘Moody’ was the word she used.” Frank mused, “She could’ve just told me I was being a dick. I was kinda rude to this one lady, but she was totally over-served. And that wasn’t even my fault but hey, I didn’t really wanna be there all night anyways.”  
“Moody.” Gerard echoed curiously, concern coloring his thoughts.  
“Yeah. I dunno. I’ve just been so fucking… _on-edge._ ” Frank said, “I think I’ve just got too much like, going on right now? Which reminds me, what are you doing Saturday night?”  
“Not shit.” Gerard answered easily.  
“Cool.” Frank said, “So.... my boss had me plan this like, acoustic showcase cocktail party thing in honor of the rest of Turner’s band and I was just wondering if you wanted to come?”  
“Like, as your date?” Gerard asked.  
“Well… yeah.” Frank said, “Or, plus one, if you will. I’ll probably be pretty busy with everything, but there’s gonna be a photobooth and shit. I’m sure we can find some time to do... _datey things.”_  
“Seems like there’s a pretty good chance you’ll come home with me after.” Gerard shrugged, fighting a teasing smile he didn’t have to hide in the dark, “That’s datey enough for me. Is Mikey going?”  
“Is Mikey ever _not going?_ ” Frank asked.  
“Good point...” Gerard said. It was still weird to think that Frank and Mikey already knew each other in ways that had nothing to do with Gerard. He could understand this on a conceptual level, but the actuality of it was still a little jarring.  
“Anyways _about Mikey…_ ” Gerard said, clearing his throat again, “He says to leave him to fuck alone until he’s done with his… fiscal reports? Or something?”  
“He said that, huh?” Frank asked, letting out a breath of a laugh.  
“If you have questions you can just ask me, you know?” Gerard reminded quietly.  
“No I can’t.” Frank pointed out.  
“What do you mean?” Gerard defended, “I’m trying to be transparent as possible about all of this. Last night-”  
 _“I’m not fucking arguing with you while you’re sitting in the bath tub...”_ Frank said firmly, crossing his arms. Gerard couldn’t make out his expression in the dim, but he sounded serious.  
 _“Fine.”_ Gerard grumbled, gingerly lifting himself out of the tub. His muscles protested against the motion. Between several days of transitioning, and sitting in one position in the bathtub for so long, Gerard’s limbs were not happy with him at all.  
Stiffly, Gerard followed Frank into his entirely-too-bright bedroom. Even as Frank was glaring at him, Gerard couldn’t help but notice that he went out of his way to turn on the bedside lamp and cross the room to turn the brighter overhead light off.  
Frank closed his eyes and took a deep breath to recollect himself before staring Gerard down with one hell of look. Frank’s eyes were so piercing, Gerard was almost unsure which one of them was the one who turned into a monster every full moon.  
“Mikey gives me straight answers when I ask for them.” Frank said evenly, calmly, “And you just want me to pretend this isn’t happening.”  
“But…” Gerard faltered, “I didn’t mean we couldn’t _talk about it_ , Frank. The idea that you’d ask Mikey instead of me...”  
“You don’t wanna talk about it at all.” Frank countered, furrowing his brow, “Have you done any research on _any of it?_ Have you even fucking _Googled it,_ Gerard? Aren’t you even a little curious what it means that we love each other enough to... _activate some freaky ancient curse thing?_ Because honestly it’s-”  
“Terrifying?” Gerard finished.  
 _“Terrifying?”_ Frank asked incredulously, “I was going to say ‘romantic.’ You don’t think it’s romantic? Not even a little bit?”  
“Have you ever loved someone this much?” Gerard asked, unable to stop himself from arguing further, “Because I haven’t, and yeah, it’s fucking _terrifying,_ Frank. I’m so afraid of messing this up. Not to mention the fact that I’m _all wrong for you…”_  
“Well, too fucking bad.” Frank countered, “You’re stuck with me. _Maybe forever._ Unless you fucking do something about it, which you probably won’t. You’d rather just sulk in your bathtub forever, wouldn’t you?”  
“What exactly do you want me to do about it?” Gerard asked, “Why are you so eager to fix this, Frank? This has nothing to do with you at all. You could walk away from this unscathed at any moment.”  
“That’s bullshit and you know it.” Frank pointed out darkly.  
“What do you even think Mikey’s gonna do about it?” Gerard asked, softening his tone.  
“I don’t know.” Frank answered, “But I can’t just do _nothing.”_  
“Yes you can.” Gerard offered gently, stepping into Frank’s space and pulling him in for a hug, “You said it yourself: you’ve got too much going on as it is.”  
“Well… You’re not helping.” Frank mumbled defeatedly, melting against Gerard.  
“I was curious at first, too.” Gerard commiserated softly, pressing his lips against Frank’s hair, “But curiosity only gets you so far...”  
“Just because you didn’t figure it out doesn’t mean you _can’t_ figure it out.” Frank pointed out, “There’s probably an answer out there somewhere.”  
“There’s worse things than being stuck with you forever...” Gerard said simply.  
“Gerard-” Frank protested.  
“I could be dead.” Gerard interrupted, “ I _was_ dead, Frank. When that wolf attacked me I lost so much blood… There’s no way I would’ve survived it. It ripped me the fuck open. I had nightmares about it for months...”  
“But… You don’t even have any scars?” Frank wondered.  
“I did for awhile.” Gerard said, “They went away.”  
Frank let out a deep sigh as Gerard hugged him tighter.  
“I don’t need to find a way out of this.” Gerard explained, “I’m fine with the way things are. I’m just happy to be alive at all.”  
“Why didn’t you just fucking say that?” Frank asked, pulling away enough to glare at Gerard again, “Now I just feel like a fucking asshole.”  
“I’m sorry.” Gerard grinned fondly, “I guess pretending it isn’t happening is just how I cope with things… If you’d prefer to not pretend, we don’t have to.”  
“I’m having a hard enough time figuring out what’s real and what isn’t.” Frank sighed, “Please no pretending.”  
“Alright.” Gerard nodded, “But that means you have to leave my brother alone. Until he’s done with the... fiscal whatevers.”  
“I’ll try.” Frank said, fighting a smile.  
 _Such a little shit,_ Gerard thought, leaning in to wipe the smile off Frank’s face the only way he knew how.  
~  
  
It was a few nights later Gerard woke up alone in bed. He glanced over at the clock, confirming that it was still too early for Frank to have disappeared off to work. He listened for any signs of him, but all Gerard heard was the TV. He folded the covers back and crawled out of bed, slipping out of his room and into the living room. Frank was curled up under a pile of blankets, eyes glued to the TV. Gerard sat beside the tangled mass of quilting and wool and glanced between the bloody gore, and Frank’s entranced expression. He wasn’t even blinking really. His eyes were red from staring at the screen. Thick, dark circles curved under his bloodshot eyes.  
“Uh… what’s up?” Gerard asked.  
“Couldn’t sleep.” Frank offered, tearing his eyes away and blinking at Gerard, “Sorry. The TV didn’t wake you, did it?”  
“Nah.” Gerard yawned, leaning into the nest of blankets and pulling one of them around his shoulders.  
Frank made a vague attempt at swallowing Gerard under the mass of fabric, but it only sort of worked. Gerard’s head got tangled in one of the many fleece blankets. Frank took a moment to sort them out, wrapping a few of the quilts around the both of them protectively. Gerard knew he was smiling like a lovesick fool as soon as they were settled but he didn’t care.  
“I have um, issues with insomnia.” Frank explained, resting his head on Gerard’s shoulder, “Or, um, I used to anyways. It’s kinda been awhile…”  
“Huh...” was all Gerard could say.  
Gerard had an inkling of a suspicion that Frank had caught the werewolf virus. He hadn’t told Frank about it yet. He wasn’t planning to until he’d finished building his case. There was more than enough evidence to support his worries, though. Frank had been acting weird all week. He was moody and on-edge, argumentative, dominant… it was clear now that he wasn’t sleeping. He’d even admitted to missing the taste of bacon the day before the last. Unvegan confessions had to mean something was wrong.  
The suggestion of insomnia was the last nail in the coffin, though. Gerard’s hand shot up to Frank’s forehead to check his temperature. It seemed like he was running sort of hot. Gerard placed his other hand on his own forehead for reference.  
“Fuck off, _mom_.” Frank said, swatting Gerard’s hand away.  
“Are you feeling alright?” Gerard asked, leaning in front of Frank to obscure his view of the TV.  
“Yeah.” Frank said, narrowing his eyes at Gerard, “I feel fine... _Why?”_  
“Nothing.” Gerard said, recoiling.  
“Nope.” Frank insisted, “It’s not _nothing._ What is it? Spit it out, doggy.”  
“I told you not to call me that.” Gerard frowned.  
“Roll over. Sit.” Frank teased, “Good boy.”  
Gerard let him tease, so long as Frank dropped any mention of his maybe-fever.  
Gerard bit his lip as Frank squinted at him curiously.  
“No seriously, Gee.” Frank said, leaning over into Gerard’s lap and staring up at him, “What’s up?”  
“I think um… I think you might’ve caught it.” Gerard said slowly. The words sounded weird coming out of his mouth, like it wasn’t him that was saying them.  
“Caught _what?”_ Frank asked.  
“The wolf thing...” Gerard offered hesitantly, “I don’t know for sure. You just seem kinda… off?”  
“You think I…” Frank trailed off.  
“Maybe.” Gerard mumbled, “I don’t know? You said you wanted bacon the other day.”  
“ _Fuck...”_ Frank breathed.  
Gerard felt his anxiety spike as Frank sat up and stared at him helplessly.  
“What are the symptoms like?” Frank asked, “Fuck. _What do I do?”_  
“Wait until the full moon is closer and just, uh…” Gerard shrugged, “See what happens?”  
“Fuck.” Frank said again, “Fuck _that._ You fucking told me not to fucking kiss you and I just had to go and fucking kiss you anyways...”  
“We don’t know anything for sure, Frank.” Gerard said, trying to sound comforting, “I’m probably just being paranoid. You don’t even really have a fever...”  
Frank clamped a hand over his forehead.  
“Fuck.” He said again.  
“It’s gonna be okay.” Gerard said, reaching for Frank and pulling him closer, “No matter what… it’s gonna be _okay_. I _fucking promise,_ okay?”  
He wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince.


	28. Not Fighting

“So can I tell Jamia?” Frank asked as soon as he’d gotten home from work the next day.  
Gerard looked up from the sketch he’d been working on half-heartedly and frowned thoughtfully.  
“No.” He answered, almost on reflex.  
“Or…” he amended quickly, taking in Frank’s dark circles, paired tragically with that hopeless look he was shooting Gerard. He even had… a fucking briefcase? Gerard wasn’t sure when he’d gotten one of those or what the fuck he needed it for, but it made the overworked band-manager look ten times more professional, and ten times more… well, _overworked._  
“You can…” Gerard offered hesitantly, “But I’d prefer if you found a way to not out me as well.”  
Frank dropped his briefcase on the coffee table and collapsed onto the couch next to Gerard.  
“You’re fucking kidding right?” Frank sort-of-laughed.  
“No?” Gerard answered softly.  
“She knows something’s up.” Frank explained, “I’ve tried to deflect her all I can but she thinks… she thinks we’re fighting. She said I’ve been acting weird since I got back from upstate. She wants me to stay with her for a couple of days. She’s getting all… _motherly._ ”  
“Well just… make something up?” Gerard offered easily, “There’s an art to lying about it, Frank. It gets easier with practice...”  
“Have you ever tried to lie to a woman like her?” Frank sighed, “She sees right through everything I throw at her...”  
“Are you trying to tell me you’ve never lied to your mom?” Gerard asked innocently, holding out the remote to turn down the volume on the TV, “I’d be happy to give you some pointers...”  
When Gerard glanced over at Frank he just glared back, unamused.  
“What if, um…” Gerard mused, “Ok. What if you invited her over after work one day? That way she could see how… good things are? Between us, I mean.”  
“Are things good between us?” Frank asked, scrubbing his hands over his face, “How can you even tell?”  
“I think they are.” Gerard defended gently, “Come here... “  
Gerard set his sketch pad down on top of Frank’s briefcase and tugged on Frank’s wrist until he gave in and inched closer. Frank tried to melt against his side, but Gerard caught Frank’s jaw with his fingertips and pulled him in for a slow kiss.  
“You smell amazing...” Gerard said, pulling away enough to speak.  
“Doubt it.” Frank countered.  
“Like… instant coffee, and files, and…” Gerard paused, trying to put words to the familiar scents he was picking up on, _“...You.”_  
“Gross.” Frank teased, “I swear I left my desk long enough to get an actual cup of coffee today.”  
“Starbucks is basically as bad as instant.” Gerard argued.  
“Fuck you.” Frank shot back.  
“‘Kay...” Gerard breathed.  
~  
  
The next morning Frank woke up with a tickle in his throat. By midmorning his voice was hoarse and he felt heavy and weak. By noon he was feverish, and nothing tasted right. He declared himself sick before the end of the workday, but powered through the list of e-mails he had to send out before the clock could strike midnight in the U.K. God Bless those fucking e-mails, too. Frank was too busy to Google what the fuck was going on with his body.  
As if the worried texts from Gerard weren’t enough already. Jamia only seemed more concerned about Frank as soon as she saw the state he was in. It was honestly pretty far down the list of Frank’s problems, but having a tiny, fiery, punk woman glaring right through him from across his desk for the entirety of the lunch hour he didn’t have time to take wasn’t helping things at all.  
“I’m not making excuses. I really can’t go out tonight. Feel my forehead.” Frank said, narrowing his eyes at her. And okay, maybe he dramatized the cough that had been tickling the back of his throat since she’d walked into his office.  
“I don’t want your sick germs.” She said, but she seemed somewhat satisfied by Frank’s excuse. It helped that he was actually sick.  
“Tequila’s the last thing I need right now, J...” Frank insisted fondly.  
“Fine...” Jamia caved.  
“Come back to Gerard’s place with me on Friday after work… We can work on the guest list for the showcase together. Besides, he said he wants to hang out with you.”  
Which, okay, was sort of a lie, but Jamia didn’t need to know that. And neither did Gerard.  
Frank swallowed hard when she agreed, and oh God, it hurt to swallow.  
  
It was nerves that had Frank making his way down to Mikey’s office 20 minutes before the end of business hours. He hesitated a moment before knocking on Mikey’s door.  
“What?” Mikey asked from the other side of the door, “Unless the fucking building is on fire it’ll have to wait ‘til tomorrow.”  
“Um… it’s me.” Frank rasped.  
Frank listened carefully while Mikey shuffled papers around and cursed loudly. The door swung open a moment later.  
“Oh. It’s you…” Mikey said, eyeing Frank up and down, “I’m not doing this right now. Talk to your fucking boyfriend about the fairytales, okay? Management will kill me if I don’t have these reports over to the U.K. by midnight. _Their midnight.”_  
“But I’m sick...” Frank said simply.  
“Great.” Mikey retorted, “That means you can go home early and stay the hell away from me and everyone else.”  
“No, Mikey.” Frank said, shaking his head, “You don’t get it. I’m _sick._ ”  
Understanding colored Mikey’s features as Frank’s insinuations registered.  
“...Do you have the fever?” Mikey asked.  
Frank nodded, clearing his throat painfully.  
“Fuck.” Mikey said, running a hand through his hair.  
“What the fuck do I do?” Frank asked, biting his lip.  
“Um…” Mikey faltered, “Okay. This is… _fuck._ ”  
“Yeah.” Frank agreed.  
“This is fine.” Mikey nodded, “This is okay. It doesn’t mean- Look, I really have to turn this shit in. I’ll come over to Gerard’s after work, okay? Just, go straight home. Don’t bite anyone or cough on anyone or share cups with anyone… just go straight the fuck home.”  
“Okay.” Frank nodded.  
“And don’t tell Gerard yet.” Mikey added, “He’ll freak the fuck out.”  
“He’s already freaking the fuck out.” Frank pointed out, “He was the one who figured it out, actually.”  
“Why didn’t he- oh, nevermind.” Mikey grumbled, “Just… let me get these reports out and we’ll… figure this out. Somehow.”  
Frank nodded again and turned to head back to his office to pack up his things.  
Getting back to Gerard’s apartment was sort of a blur. Frank knew he was on the verge of freaking the fuck out, but somehow, he was oddly calm on the surface. There were a lot of things that would suck about being a werewolf. Like the fact that he totally didn’t have time to be a werewolf.  
But there were so many things he couldn’t help but find sort of appealing. He’d literally be one of the awful monsters he’d daydreamed about so many times as a teenager. And there was no way he could make escaping the city once a month to run around the woods with Gerard all night and fuck him in the cabin all daysound bad. It sounded like exactly what Frank needed.  
~  
  
Gerard tried to make it seem as though he hadn’t been anxiously pacing up and down the hallway in his tiny apartment, impatiently waiting for Frank to come back from work. He froze when he heard the key sliding in to unlock the deadbolt. He failed to find some way to look busy, though somehow, he knew Frank wouldn’t buy whatever front he put on anyways. As soon as Frank was through the door, Gerard steered him onto the couch, helping him out of his coat and shoes. Before Frank could let out even one pathetic little wheeze, Gerard was gently piling blankets on top of him. Frank just let him do whatever he wanted, mostly relieved he could stop having to think for himself for five minutes. He’d been having to think way too much in general lately and it was definitely taking it’s toll.  
Frank opened his mouth to say something, maybe ‘thank you’ or maybe even just a ‘hello’ but Gerard just shoved a thermometer between his lips before he could get anything out. He blinked up at Gerard as the thermometer beeped.  
“Do you want me to make you some tea?” Gerard asked, “What do you like in it? Honey? Lemon? Oh wait, honey isn't vegan, is it?”  
Frank just shook his head.  
Gerard perched himself on the edge of the coffee table and bit his lip, considering Frank carefully.  
“So listen, I’ve been thinking...” Gerard said, pausing to recollect himself, “I got you into this mess… and as far as I know, there’s no way for me to get you out. Well, I mean, I guess you could kill me? I’d be fine with that. It’s not like I don’t deserve it.”  
Gerard closed his eyes to keep himself from getting side-tracked by Frank’s obscenely pretty eyes. It wasn’t fair someone could look so pretty when they were so obviously sick. He knew his words sounded rehearsed, there was no way for them to not sound rehearsed. He’d rehearsed them.  
“But… the point I’m trying to make right now.” Gerard amended, “Is that I promise I’ll do the best I can to… take care of you, no matter what happens. It’s the least I can do.”  
Frank nodded, trying to glare at the thermometer between his lips without crossing his eyes. He knew he was running hot, but he hadn’t taken his temperature at all and couldn’t deny his curiosity.  
Finally the thermometer beeped and Frank pulled it out, squinting at the little digital numbers.  
 **103.1**  
“One oh three point one.” He announced hoarsely.  
“Fuck.” Gerard sighed, running his hand through his hair, just like Mikey had back at the office. Another one of those Way-Things, Frank decided.  
“Do you need anything?” Gerard asked, smoothing Frank’s hair back away from his face. It was starting to get sort of long, he noticed. It had always been sort of shaggy, but now it was long enough that he could actually card his fingers through it. It was even coiling into gentle almost-curls at the ends.  
“Just… stay here with me? I don’t wanna die alone.” Frank said.  
Gerard’s heart skipped a beat at the suggestion. He almost wanted to argue, but the smug grin that spread across Frank’s lips shut him up. Frank was only joking.  
Frank curled himself up under the blankets so there was room for Gerard on the end of the couch. Gerard let Frank adjust the blankets until some of them were sort of covering his lap, too. He leaned forward to grab the remote and pass it to Frank.  
“Victim gets control over the TV.” Gerard offered sarcastically, “House rule.”  
“Bad dog.” Frank rasped, “Don’t call me a victim. I was warned. I knew the risks and I kissed you anyways.”  
“People who willingly jump into fires are still considered _burn victims._ ” Gerard offered, side-eyeing Frank for the dog joke.  
“I almost wish I _had_ jumped into a fire...” Frank scoffed, “At least everyone knows how that works. You don’t have to pick through google searches looking for answers, you just call an ambulance.”  
Gerard frowned. Frank wasn’t wrong, but Gerard didn’t like that he was right.  
“Oh, by the way, Mikey’s coming over when he’s done at work.” Frank added, breaking into a coughing fit.  
Gerard just nodded, pursing his lips as he watched Frank struggle to breathe.  
“It happened so fast. You were _fine_ this morning.” Gerard commented, “Last night you were _more than fine._ ”  
“I know...” Frank wheezed.  
Gerard reached for Frank’s hand and pulled it up to his mouth to press a kiss against Frank’s feverish skin.  
“You still think all this is romantic, huh?” Gerard asked.  
“Wow. Fuck you...” Frank glared pulling his hand away and folding his arms around himself.  
Gerard immediately felt guilty as he gazed worriedly at his boyfriend. He’d picked the worst possible time to make a dig on that and now Frank was going to hold it against him.  
  
Frank managed to keep the silent treatment up until Mikey arrived, wheezing as he stared vacantly at the TV. The younger Way let himself in to the apartment. The sounds of the grocery bags he was carrying in his hands broke the silence.  
“Did you even know they make vegan chicken noodle soup?” Mikey asked, wandering into the room.  
Gerard looked up, noticing the second set of footsteps following behind Mikey. Alicia had tagged along, apparently.  
“ _I **did** actually._ ” Frank retorted. He wasn’t even going to pretend he wasn’t in a bad mood, Gerard realized. Frank was still moody as ever while practically on his fucking death bed.  
And fuck, Gerard was so fucking _gone_ for him.  
“Well I got you some...” Mikey said, “And some other cold medicines and stuff. Alicia thought they might help… with the symptoms anyways. Didn’t really know what was wrong with you, so we sorta got everything.”  
Mikey crossed the room and dropped onto his knees in front of the couch. He peered down at Frank with heavy curiosity.  
“Are you sure it’s not just your _awful fucking immune system?_ ” Mikey asked gently, poking Frank’s forehead, “I mean, when was the last time you were sick like this? You’re overdue for a cold like this, aren’t you?”  
Gerard tried to swallow the sudden jealousy he felt towards his younger brother. It stung to think that Mikey might know Frank better than he did in any way, even if there was a perfectly logical reason for why that was.  
“This doesn’t feel like the regular thing… I’m not achey all over.” Frank offered.  
“The puppy really does look sick.” Alicia chimed in, leaning over the back of the couch to join Mikey in staring down at Frank.  
“Don’t call him that.” Mikey insisted.  
“Yeah. Don’t call me that.” Frank warned, sticking his tongue out.  
“Sucks, doesn’t it?” Gerard mumbled.  
Frank kicked at him under the blankets.  
“Wait a fucking minute!” Frank said, trying to sit up quickly and failing under the delirious weight of his fever, “Fucking- _Alicia_ knows about this?”  
They all fell silent. Gerard bit his lip trying to decide how to answer. He glanced up at Alicia, who was staring right back at him. She gave him a hopeless look and glanced over at Mikey.  
“Mikey can tell the girl he’s been dating for five minutes, _no offense Alicia,_ ” Frank amended dryly, “...But I can’t tell my best fucking friend? What the fuck is that shit?”  
“I know how tempting it is...” Mikey said, clearing his throat, surprising everyone by answering first, “But you should hold off until we’re absolutely sure. No reason to get her unnecessarily involved. If you haven’t actually been exposed, so to speak, you’d essentially just be outing Gerard.”  
“What’s Jamia gonna do about it, though?” Frank argued, raising an eyebrow, “You guys told me and everything’s fine. Alicia knows and everything’s fine. It’s _fine._ ”  
“We didn’t _tell you…_ ” Gerard argued incredulously, shaking his head, “You fucking-”  
“In situations like this, the less people who know, the better.” Mikey interrupted, derailing Gerard’s point, “Until we know for sure what’s going on with you, it’s not your secret to tell.”  
Frank frowned, but seemed to consider Mikey’s logic with some sincerity.  
“I still think it’s bullshit and you guys are totally ganging up on me here, but _okay._ ” Frank sighed. The act of breathing deeply sent him into another coughing fit.  
“Alright so coughing, fever…” Mikey said, and Alicia started digging through the grocery bag containing some of the medicine they’d brought.  
“Gerard, go make some tea.” Mikey ordered.  
“But I don’t _like_ tea.” Frank said, eyeing Gerard longingly as he slid out from under the blankets and ghosted towards the kitchen.  
“Nobody likes tea. It’s basically just dirty hot water.” Mikey scoffed, “But can you even taste anything right now?”  
“Well, no...” Frank said.  
“Problem solved.” Mikey smiled.  
“Non-Drowsy or drowsy?” Alicia asked, reading the back of one of the many packages.  
Frank answered “ _Non-Drowsy._ ” right as Mikey answered “ _Drowsy.”_  
“You need sleep.” Mikey insisted, narrowing his eyes at Frank.  
“I already feel like a zombie, I don’t need any help.” Frank complained.  
“Wrong curse.” Mikey scoffed.  
“Technically zombie outbreak was a virus not a curse.” Frank pointed out.  
“But the curse of the wolf is transmitted like a virus.” Mikey countered, “Isn’t that **literally** the problem here?”  
“I can’t believe you two are actually arguing about this right now.” Alicia said, handing the nighttime cold medicine over to Mikey.  
She turned to run her fingers over the spines of the books on one of the many bookcases.  
“Gerard has a lot of fucking books...” She commented.  
“Yeah. It’s sort of hard to get bored here.” Mikey agreed.  
“Well, yeah, but that has nothing to do with his fucking _books.._.” She scoffed.  
  
A few moments later Gerard returned with a steaming mug of tea. He set it on the coffee table and folded himself back into his place beside Frank on the couch. Frank was still vehemently opposed to taking any cold medicine that might make him the least bit sleepy.  
“What’s that Ramones song, Frankie?” Gerard asked, squeezing Frank’s leg.  
“What Ramones song?” Frank asked, narrowing his eyes.  
“‘Howlin at the Moon?’” Alicia offered.  
“ **No.** ” Gerard said, giving her a warning look, “ _‘I Wanna Be Sedated.’_ Isn’t it punk to wanna be… _sedated?”_  
“Oh my God…” Frank said squeezing the bridge of his nose.  
“What?” Gerard asked obliviously, making Frank smile.  
“Nothing. Just, if you’re going to dose me just _fucking do it already._ ” Frank demanded, “Put me out of my misery.”  
“Your wish is my command.” Gerard said, grabbing the box of cold medicine from Mikey and tearing it open. He pulled several tablets off the line of blister packets and popped them out into his palm.  
Frank frowned as Gerard handed them over, but he tossed them into his mouth without a fight. He made grabby hands at his mug of tea until Gerard passed it to him.  
“Thank you, Nurse Way.” Frank deadpanned, swallowing a mouthful of tea and pills and leaning back against the couch cushions, looking defeated and resigned.  
“Jesus Fuck. Wait ‘til I _leave._ ” Mikey warned.  
Frank just smiled innocently, holding the mug under his chin to breathe in the steam rising from the surface of the tea.  
“So, are you experiencing any other signs that you might’ve…” Mikey trailed off.  
“I don’t… really know what I should be looking for?” Frank thought out loud.  
“Gerard?” Mikey prompted.  
“I don’t remember feeling any different after I got bitten?” Gerard said, “I remember thinking it was weird how not-different I felt… considering I’d been fucking attacked and shit. I don’t remember getting sick? Then again, I was kinda always sick back then. Hangovers and stuff.”  
“The forums seem to suggest the symptoms are a little different for everyone.” Mikey supplied, “Are you experiencing any strange cravings? Changes in sleep habits? Feelings of aggression or possessiveness?”  
“Kinda?” Frank answered, meeting Gerard’s eyes, “I don’t know.”  
“It’s still too far from the moon to know for sure...” Mikey tutted.  
“You mean they don’t carry home testing kits for this kind of thing at the pharmacy?” Frank asked, “It’s not like-”  
“So okay…” Gerard said, changing the subject, “Let’s just say… I mean, I don’t want to jump to any conclusions here but like, let’s just say Frank’s been exposed. What are we going to _do_ with him?”  
“The same thing we do with you.” Mikey answered simply, “I’ll lock him up at the cabin. That cage is more than big enough for both of you.”  
“But what if we… _hurt each other?”_ Gerard pointed out.  
“Somehow I don’t think that’ll be an issue.” Alicia smirked.  
Gerard tossed her another warning look.  
“We could let you out in the woods and put Frank in the basement if you’re worried about it.” Mikey offered, “I trust you to come back.”  
“Wait you’d really… do that?” Frank asked incredulously.  
“You got a better idea?” Mikey asked, quirking a curious eyebrow.  
“Well, no.” Frank admitted.  
“Then that’ll be the plan for now. Gerard’s right, it’s good to have a plan in place, just in case.” Mikey sighed, “Even if the moon isn’t for three weeks. And I’m still not fully convinced you haven’t just overworked yourself into a stress-induced sickness coma.”  
“I told you. This doesn’t feel like the regular thing.” Frank insisted.  
“We’ll just have to see...” Mikey shrugged, “Anything else you two need from me this evening or can I go take my girlfriend out to dinner?”  
Gerard and Frank glanced at each other, both not sure how to answer.  
“You’ve been dating for a week and you already have to consult each other before answering basic questions.” Mikey observed, “Great.”  
Mikey lifted himself off the floor and beckoned for Alicia to follow.  
“I always wanted dogs...” Alicia said, smiling first at Frank, then at Gerard.  
“They’re not dogs, Alicia.” Mikey corrected gently, “They’re fucking monsters.”  
Alicia frowned at Mikey’s stubbornness and floated towards the door.  
“On that note, google ‘pack politics.’” Mikey said, “I don’t fully understand them, in part because Gerard’s never been involved with other wolves before… but I think, if he bit you that might make him your pack leader.”  
Frank nodded, pursing his lips as he watched the couple let themselves out.  
“Call me if anything changes.” Mikey said.  
“Thanks, _Love you two._ ” Gerard called out after them.  
“Yeah, yeah.” Mikey mumbled, “Love you two, too.”  
The door swung shut after them with a familiar thud and then, Frank and Gerard were alone again.  
  
“So… _Pack_.” Frank said quietly, setting his mug down and pulling the blankets up around his chin.  
“I said we shouldn’t jump to conclusions.” Gerard said.  
“Kay.” Frank said, letting out a humorless laugh that made him cough a few more times.  
“You should get some sleep.” Gerard insisted, leaning towards Frank to place a hand on his forehead.  
“I still have a fever.” Frank pointed out bitterly, “It didn’t go away in the last 20 minutes...”  
“Just wanted an excuse to touch you.” Gerard explained.  
Frank’s frown broke. He looked thoughtful as he gazed up at Gerard. Gerard wished suddenly, _desperately,_ that he could read Frank’s mind.  
  
“Do you want me to be a werewolf, too?” Frank asked.  
“No.” Gerard answered quietly, “Not at all.”  
He hadn’t thought about it before answering, but he didn’t need to.  
“But you wouldn’t be alone anymore...” Frank said.  
“I’m not alone anymore. Not right now.” Gerard said, shaking his head, “I have you.”  
“But wouldn’t you like it if I was like you?” Frank asked, “We’d be in this together.”  
“I like you as a human.” Gerard said, “It’s not worth it. You don’t know what it’s like, Frank. It _hurts._ It’s not tattoo-permanent. It’s curse-permanent. It’s misery. It’s a fucking _curse._ ”  
“I don’t get tattoos for their permanence.” Frank defended, “You sound like my fucking mom.”  
“I feel like a fucking mom.” Gerard said, “I don’t know why I’m still trying to convince you this is bad.”  
“I’ll drop it, but... you really haven’t thought about turning me at all?” Frank asked  
“No.” Gerard lied, “That would be selfish.”  
“I think selfish things about you sometimes.” Frank admitted, “It’s okay.”  
“Well I haven’t thought about it. And I’m not going to. And you shouldn’t either.” Gerard insisted, “Because you’re fine. You’re just sick.”  
Frank shrugged.  
“You’re lucky I’m officially too tired to argue with you.” He wheezed.  
~  
  
It got worse before it got better. Frank called in sick the following day and spent most of the day curled up on Gerard’s couch fast asleep, beside a mountain of crumpled tissues. When Gerard got home from work he could barely force Frank to down more cold medicine and tea. “Dirt Water” as he called it. He complained about it more than he drank it.  
As the days progressed, Frank’s fever seemed to go down, which meant he was back at work during the days, and on Gerard’s couch replying endlessly to e-mails at night. With his benefit showcase looming in the distance, he barely let himself relax enough to sleep.  
“I swear you care more about my health than I do.” Frank said one evening, after Gerard had managed to pull him away from his laptop and into the bed.  
“Well someone has to.” Gerard answered, refraining from any mention that he felt entirely responsible for the state that Frank was in.  
“Still… thanks.” Frank yawned.  
Gerard reached over to turn off the lights and curled himself around Frank.  
“Aside from the sickness, does anything else feel wrong? Different? Off?” Gerard asked, planting a kiss behind Frank’s ear.  
“I don’t know. I feel kinda weird?” Frank answered, “What am I supposed to be looking for?”  
“Tingling under the skin is sort of the main thing....” Gerard said, “Tickle at the back of the throat. Overwhelming need to fuck and eat _everything._ ”  
“You want to _eat me_ when we’re…?” Frank trailed off curiously.  
“No.” Gerard corrected, fighting a laugh, “No no no. The fucking and eating are separate. Not at the same time. I meant-”  
“You said ‘fuck and eat.’” Frank pointed out.  
“That’s not what I meant.” Gerard protested.  
“Mmhmm, sure.” Frank yawned.  
~  
  
Though the bad head cold seemed to be subsiding, Frank wandered into Gerard’s apartment Friday evening looking worse than ever. He dropped his briefcase on the kitchen counter and melted against Gerard.  
“How was work?” Gerard asked.  
“Don’t wanna talk about it.” Frank mumbled against the fabric of Gerard’s shirt.  
The moon was still another two weeks out but Gerard was already starting to feel the first irritations. Among other things, Frank just smelled so fucking good. Gerard curled his arms around the punk and breathed him in. Their lips met in an innocent ‘hello’ kiss. Gerard held it a few seconds too long, relishing in the sweetness of Frank’s breath.  
“Jamia’s coming over in an hour.” Frank informed, once their lips had broken apart.  
“You don’t sound excited.” Gerard observed.  
“Shut up.” Frank mumbled, “I am, I’m just… in such a bad mood.”  
He pressed himself up against Gerard again and Gerard held his breath. It was awful timing, like always, but that didn’t stop Gerard from thinking about how nice it would be to just-  
“When was the last time you had a cigarette?” Gerard asked, swallowing hard, trying to distract himself.  
“It’s uh, been a couple days?” Frank offered, “I quit whenever I get sick...”  
“ _That’s_ probably why you’re in a bad mood.” Gerard said.  
“You’re right. It couldn’t possibly be anything else.” Frank offered sarcastically.  
“Are you sure you don’t wanna talk about it?” Gerard asked.  
“Office stuff. It’s boring.” Frank sighed.  
“I don’t mind if it would make you feel better.” Gerard offered.  
“I don’t wanna talk. I just…” Frank trailed off.  
“I think I have a solution.” Gerard said.  
“If it’s a cigarette, I’m not interested.” Frank warned.  
“It’s not a cigarette.” Gerard promised, “In fact, it might take your mind off of the cravings for a bit.”  
Gerard leaned forward and pressed his lips against Frank’s cheek. Once his lips were against Frank’s skin again he couldn’t tear them away. He trailed kisses along Frank’s jaw, down to his neck.  
“Aren’t you worried about me getting you sick?” Frank asked softly.  
“I don’t get sick.” Gerard said simply.  
“You’re fucking kidding, right?” Frank breathed.  
“Nah.” Gerard said, wrapping his arms around Frank’s waist and pulling him closer. He trailed his lips back up to Frank’s mouth and paused at the corner of his lips, trying to get a read on him. He was frozen in place, letting Gerard take the lead, and Gerard was still sort of iffy about leading these things.  
“Do we have time?” Frank asked.  
“How much time do you need?” Gerard asked, pulling away enough to smirk at Frank. “Bet I could make you come in less than five minutes.”  
Frank’s lips parted a little as he regarded Gerard with an open, curious stare, silently begging Gerard to kiss him again. Gerard wasn’t about to make him wait for it.  
Or on second thought, he totally was about to make him wait. He sunk to his knees and started on Frank’s belt. He could feel Frank’s halfie through his jeans as he tugged on Frank’s zipper. This was Frank’s only pair that didn’t have holes in the knees. Frank’s boss had been on his case about that for some reason lately. They were solid black and tight in all the right ways, but of course, that meant they were a little harder to get off. Gerard eased the tight, dark fabric down by the belt loops.  
“Wait, you really wanna do this in here?” Frank asked, grabbing one of Gerard’s wrists.  
“I don’t know? We’re already _here._ ” Gerard pointed out, “Where would you rather do it?”  
“I don’t know.” Frank shrugged.  
He still seemed sort of awkward though, so Gerard got back on his feet and pulled on Frank’s arm.  
He’d meant to lead them to the bedroom. He felt like Frank was still sort of delicate from his recent illness. The bed seemed safe, comfortable. But as soon as he saw the bathroom, Gerard got an idea. He pulled Frank into the small tiled room and closed the door behind them. He flicked on the lights and pulled his sweatshirt up over his head.  
“Um. In… here?” Frank asked.  
“Hang on.” Gerard said, spinning around to turn on the shower. He adjusted the knobs to where he thought warm might be and spun back around to face Frank.  
Frank had pulled his phone out and was biting his lip as he scrolled through the menu.  
“What are you doing?” Gerard asked.  
“Setting a timer.” Frank explained.  
“For what?” Gerard asked.  
Frank flipped his phone around to face Gerard.  
4:58, 4:57, 4:56…  
“You said five minutes.” Frank smirked.  
“You already started it?” Gerard asked, “We’re not even…”  
“It’s not like I was gonna give you a head start.” Frank said, rolling his eyes.  
The room was already starting to steam up and God, Gerard wanted to wipe the smile right off of Frank’s face. He closed the distance between them and pulled Frank’s phone from his hand so he could set it on the counter.  
“Five minutes.” Gerard said, pecking Frank on the lips, “Alright. What do I lose if I can’t get you off that quick?”  
“I haven’t decided your punishment yet.” Frank sighed.  
Gerard kissed him again, all desperate and meaningful. If he was going to do this right, he’d have to work quickly and thoughtfully. Gerard pushed him up against the door and licked his mouth open, sliding a hand down to palm at Frank’s dick through the fabric of his boxers. Still half-hard. Gerard could work with half-hard.  
Frank kissed him back, slow and sweet, breath coming a little uneven. Gerard slid his hand under the waistband of Frank’s boxers and curled his fingers around Frank’s cock.  
“Fuck, I can’t kiss you like that.” Frank said letting his head fall back and bump against the door, “I’m still kinda sick... I can’t breathe through my nose.”  
“That’s okay.” Gerard offered encouragingly, jacking Frank off slowly, evenly. Frank’s hips were starting to twitch in time with Gerard’s movements. He dragged his teeth over the skin of Frank’s exposed neck, biting down gently.  
“Fuck you.” Frank breathed, now totally hard and defenseless in Gerard’s arms.  
“Your phone will make some kind of noise when we get to five minutes, right?” Gerard asked.  
Frank nodded weakly.  
“Good.” Gerard said, running his tongue over where he’d bitten Frank to soothe the skin.  
“Did you just turn on the shower for show or are you gonna…” Frank trailed off.  
“Whatever you want.” Gerard leered, squeezing Frank’s dick.  
Instead of speaking, Frank just acted. He took a step away from the door, and pushed Gerard back so he had the space to pull his shirt off. Gerard pulled off his own, as well and made quick work of his jeans. He was naked way before Frank, thanks to Frank’s fucking skinny jeans. Gerard would remember to check what Frank was wearing the next time he threatened the punk with a good time. He used his precious time advantage to adjust the way-too-hot water pumping out of the shower head before pulling Frank in with him.  
They kissed heatedly under the warm spray. Gerard leaned back against the cold tiles and pulled Frank up against him. It felt so nice to be skin on skin, Gerard almost forgot they were in a hurry for a moment.  
Frank tore his lips away after a moment and took a deep breath. Right. Head cold. No making out. Gerard carefully lowered himself onto his knees again and licked a stripe up the underside of Frank’s cock.  
  
Frank let out a soft gasp as Gerard swallowed him down. Gerard glanced up at his boyfriend, satisfied when he saw the way Frank was biting his lip as he stared down at Gerard intently. The contrast between his inked arms and the white of the shower curtain was distracting in the best way possible. He brushed Gerard’s half-wet hair away from his face and brought his hand up to his mouth to bite his knuckle in an attempt to supress another moan.  
Gerard set an even rhythm, bobbing his head forward and back, as he spread his palms out against the backs of Frank’s thighs to steady him.  
“No fucking gag reflex, Gee, I fucking swear.” Frank gritted out.  
This was about to be the easiest bet Gerard had ever won. Frank was totally losing himself in Gerard’s mouth.  
“Wait.” Frank insisted pulling back.  
“I’m trying to win a bet here.” Gerard complained, voice hoarse from the abuse.  
“Just… c’mere a second.” Frank begged.  
Gerard rose to his feet and let Frank pull him in for another kiss.  
“I’m gonna let you win, _don’t worry._ ” Frank said, turning in Gerard’s arms so that he was facing away from him. The water ran in between them, where Frank’s shoulderblades met Gerard’s chest.  
Frank grabbed Gerard’s hand and slid it down over his dick, still slippery from having been in Gerard’s mouth. He pressed himself up against Gerard as Gerard started to jack him off. Gerard let out a low growl at the much-needed friction. He ran his tongue over Frank’s neck tattoo and trailed his lips up to nip at Frank’s earlobe.  
Resting his head against Gerard’s shoulder, Frank reached a hand behind himself to start stroking Gerard off.  
“What happens if we both come in less than five minutes?” Frank asked, smirking as Gerard tried to stifle a groan.  
“Nobody loses.” Gerard suggested breathily.  
“Everyone wins.” Frank corrected.  
“Whatever.” Gerard shot back, “God, _Frankie._ ”  
“Mmmm, what Gee?” Frank hummed.  
“You taste so fucking good.” Gerard said.  
“Oh yeah?” Frank asked, letting out a breath of a laugh, “You wanna eat me?”  
Gerard hesitated for a moment, opening in his mouth to argue when a thought popped into his head. He withdrew his hand from Frank’s cock and slid it around to squeeze Frank’s ass.  
“Yeah, I wanna eat you.” Gerard drawled into Frank’s ear. Frank froze, hand still wrapped idly around Gerard’s dick.  
“Wanna taste you...” Gerard went on, sliding two fingers between Frank’s ass cheeks, “If you’d let me...”  
“I’d let you.” Frank breathed in quick reply, remembering where his hand was and continuing to jack Gerard off.  
Gerard gently teased Frank’s ass with his fingers. Why was the lube so far away? Come to think of it, why was the only lube he had water-based? They didn’t have time to be taking it this direction anyways. Gerard had a bet to win.  
“Next time.” Gerard promised, _“Any fuckin’ time you want.”_  
Frank moaned weakly in agreement. Gerard snaked his hand back around to Frank’s cock and started jacking him off more intently. Frank had to know how hot it was when he moaned like that, all low and desperate. Gerard almost wanted to accuse him of only making such sounds in an attempt to push Gerard over the edge. He bit down on Frank’s shoulder to regain control of himself, trying to willfully ignore Frank’s hold on him. He felt Frank tense up in his arms, and at first he thought he’d bitten too hard, but he soon realized Frank was just trying to fight it.  
“Don’t worry about the time.” Gerard purred against Frank’s ear, “It doesn’t matter. Just… _relax.”_  
 _“Fuck you.”_ Frank gritted out, hips twitching in time with Gerard’s hand.  
It only took a few more seconds for Gerard to win. Victory was so much sweeter when it was accompanied by Frank’s heavy breathing. He spun to face Gerard again and kissed the shit out of him, all slippery and spent. They were still kissing when the timer finally did go off. Frank tried to step out of the shower to turn it off, but Gerard pulled him right back in.  
The shower ended up taking much longer than planned, and by the time they were out and drying off they found themselves racing to get dressed.  
“Do you have a hairdryer?” Frank asked, pulling one of Gerard’s t-shirts over his head.  
“No, why?” Gerard replied, fumbling to button his shirt as quickly as possible.  
“We both have wet hair. Jamia’s gonna know we...” Frank trailed off, scrubbing at his hair with his towel.  
“Why would that matter?” Gerard asked, furrowing his brow in confusion.  
“I guess… it _wouldn’t?_ I forgot it’s okay to be open about this.” Frank mused, gesturing a hand in between the two of them, “It doesn’t have to be a secret.”  
“Was it ever a secret?” Gerard asked.  
“I don’t know.” Frank shrugged, “I guess I thought it was supposed to be? It kind of was at first, right?”  
“We have enough fucking secrets as it is...” Gerard sighed, “I have enough for the both of us.”  
Frank nodded in agreement.  
“I think it’s fine if she notices.” Gerard added, “I mean, doesn’t she think we’re fighting or something? Isn’t the whole point of her coming over to highlight how _**not fighting**_ we are? Handjobs in the shower are like the opposite of fighting, aren’t they?”  
Frank nodded again, fighting a smirk.  
They quickly finished getting dressed and Frank hurried into the kitchen to search for Gerard’s wine opener. Apparently he’d found the time on his lunchbreak to buy a bottle of wine to take the edge off their last minute party planning session.  
“So… um,” Gerard said, clearing his throat, as he “How do I make her like me? Or just like, help her _not hate me?_ ”  
Frank opened his mouth to reply right as the intercom buzzed.  
“Just be yourself.” Frank answered quickly, flying over to the intercom to let Jamia in.  
“I love you, so she’ll love you.” he explained.  
“That’s… incredibly unhelpful.” Gerard said blankly, watching as Frank disappeared around the corner and headed for the front door to wait for Jamia in the hallway that connected the other apartments.  
Gerard found he was sort of nervous, suddenly. He felt weird about tricking Frank’s friends into thinking he was in any way good for Frank. He was still a monster, who’d lied about being a monster. He wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to move past that one. Ever.  
“You didn’t say it back.” Frank said, and Gerard glanced up from the spot on the kitchen floor he’d been staring at.  
“Huh?” Gerard intoned.  
“I said ‘I love you...’” Frank pointed out, “‘So she’ll love you.’”  
“I love you, too.” Gerard promised, trying to blink away his surprise. He’d never be able to move past the fact that he was a monster, but even more so he’d never move past the idea that Frank wanted to be with him.  
Frank smiled and shook his head, backing out of the kitchen again to greet his friend. Gerard heard another voice join Frank’s in the hallway, and then Jamia was there. He followed their voices into the living room and dropped into the old wing chair by the couch.  
She and Frank had settled on the couch. Jamia smiled and waved but continued to listen to whatever Frank was saying. He was talking about some guy named Sam that Gerard guessed they both worked with. And Sam was in trouble with some guy named Brian, and they both had fallen from the good graces of some guy named Bob. And Gerard totally couldn’t focus because he had know idea who any of these people were.  
“Gee, could you go find the corkscrew?” Frank asked, looking over at Gerard and smiling, “I still don’t know my way around your kitchen.”  
“Sure.” Gerard said, lifting himself out of the old chair, happy to have a reason to leave the room.  
He found the corkscrew easily, in the only drawer Frank hadn’t checked, and was blessed with the forethought to grab a few glasses. He didn’t have wine glasses, so regular drinking glasses would have to do. He balanced the glasses and corkscrew and brought them back into the living room, setting them on the coffee table within Frank’s reach. Frank had already gotten out his notebook and the wine, and was quickly flipping through the pages.  
"Good Dog." Frank said quietly.  
Gerard dropped back into his chair and folded one leg over the other, still feeling sort of robotic and awkward, and only _a little_ mad at Frank for the dog comment.  
“So, while I’m still capable of taking this seriously. This is what I have so far for the guest list.” Frank said, handing his notebook to Jamia.  
She scanned the list with her index finger, squinting at Frank’s penmanship  
“ _Her?_ ” she asked skeptically, tapping a name.  
Frank leaned over the notebook to inspect.  
“Dude, I heard she has a friend who has a friend who’s friends with Courtney Love’s stylist. We _have to_ put her on the guest list.” Frank gushed.  
“Ugh.” Jamia grumbled, rolling her eyes, “Of course she does.”  
“Just because we put her on the guest list doesn’t mean you have to be nice to her.” Frank pointed out.  
Jamia smirked and continued running her finger through the names. Frank reached for the corkscrew and started working on the cork.  
“How the fuck did you forget Bob’s girlfriend?” Jamia asked.  
“I didn’t forget her, I just hadn’t gotten to staff associations yet.” Frank defended.  
He turned to look at Gerard, biting his lip as he inched the cork out of the wine bottle.  
“This is gonna be boring for awhile. You don’t have to hang around with us. You can if you want, though.” he explained.  
“Alright.” Gerard nodded, getting up again and stretching. It was sort of nice to not feel obligated to sit there, but at the same time he didn’t know what to do with himself.  
“You want some wine, though?” Jamia asked.  
“Maybe later.” Gerard smiled, “I’ll let you guys get a head start.”  
Both of them seemed satisfied enough with this answer, and Gerard slipped into his office. He stared for a moment at the drawing pad on his desk before reaching for a book instead.  
He crept from his office into his room, trying not to eavesdrop, but still vaguely curious.  
“At least I don’t have to find a date for tomorrow night.” Frank was saying.  
“ _Wow. Way to rub it in, asshole._ ” Jamia countered, “It’s not like Mikey has an unlimited number of cute, single brothers to set people up with… or does he? Are there more Ways? Like, straight ones? Should I be calling Mikey right now?”  
“I think Mikey’s had enough excitement for the week...” Frank said.  
“It’s not like he’s spending his Friday night configuring a guest list.” Jamia scoffed.  
Still feeling awkward and out of place, Gerard crawled onto his bed.  
He was still sort of love-drunk from the shower. And his hair was still damp. He couldn’t focus on his book. He could hear Frank and his friend laughing in the other room, pulling him out of his head every time he’d settled on the words he was reading.  
Maybe it had been a test and he’d failed. Maybe he was supposed to stay and pretend to care about a bunch of people he hadn’t met yet.  
He let out a yawn and closed his book, drifting off uneasily to sleep.  
~  
  
He stirred when he felt the mattress beside him dip.  
“Did I wake you?” Frank asked.  
Gerard hummed in response, nuzzling against the pillows so he could drift back off.  
Frank was all up in Gerard’s space though, breath laced with hints of red wine.  
“I told Jamia she could crash on the couch. Is that cool?” Frank slurred.  
“Yeah.” Gerard answered groggily, “You don’t have to ask permission, Frank. It’s-”  
Gerard paused, waking up enough to choke on his unfinished thought. He could just ask Frank if he wanted to stay. Right now. He felt more confident in the darkness. And Frank had obviously had a few drinks. If Frank said ‘no,’ Gerard could easily tell Frank that he’d been half-asleep and he hadn’t been serious. A drunk vs. sleep-drunk miscommunication.  
“Can I ask you something?” Gerard asked.  
“Anything.” Frank purred, snaking an arm around Gerard and snuggling up to him.  
Gerard hesitated for a moment.  
“Um.” He started, “Do you…”  
“What?” Frank asked.  
“Do you think Jamia thinks I’m okay for you?” Gerard chickened.  
“Yeah. I told you she’d love you.” Frank said, “I thought you’d hang out more, though, sleepy.”  
“Sorry.” Gerard said.  
“That’s okay.” Frank said, “Next time.”  
“Yeah.” Gerard agreed, “Definitely next time.”  
~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow i'm a fucking sinner ok ::::)


	29. Surfing a Wave of Flames

The following morning Gerard was surprised to find himself alone in bed so early on a Saturday morning. It was the day of Frank’s showcase though, so Gerard shouldn’t have been surprised at all that the punk was already restless.  
He could hear Frank moving around in the other room, though by the sounds of it, he couldn’t figure out what the hell Frank was doing. Half-asleep, he laid there for another five minutes, waiting for Frank to come back to bed - even if it meant he’d have to share the bed with Frank’s laptop and a cup of coffee.  
Frank didn’t come back to bed though. It was then that Gerard remembered Jamia had stayed the night as well, and so after another moment or so of blinking up at the ceiling, Gerard got up. He wished he could’ve told himself about this six months ago. Gerard six months ago wouldn’t be out of bed so early for a Saturday, not even for a boy. Yet there he was, pulling on a sweatshirt and running a hand through his hair to smooth it down.  
Still groggy, he wandered into the living room. Frank was looking for something in his box of Frank things. The box had been sitting next to Gerard’s record player so long, he’d accepted it as a permanent part of the room.  
Gerard wrapped himself around Frank, startling him at first. He quickly relaxed in Gerard’s arms and continued shuffling through his things.  
“What’re you looking for?” Gerard asked hoarsely.  
“My sanity.” Frank said blankly.  
“Where’s Jamia?” Gerard verbalized, realizing she wasn’t on the couch.  
“The florist scheduled the flower delivery for _next_ Saturday by mistake, so she went to go yell at them and… buy floral arrangements?” Frank explained, “I told her she didn’t have to yell at them, but she’s a lawyer. She gets off on that kind of thing.”  
“Remind me not to get on her bad side.” Gerard said. He rested his cheek against Frank’s shoulder and closed his eyes, listening to the rustle of paperwork as Frank dug through his belongings.  
“She’s actually a ray of fucking sunshine most of the time.” Frank defended.  
“What do you think she’d do if she knew what I’ve done to you?” Gerard mused.  
Frank had stopped looking for whatever he’d been looking for.  
“Okay, let’s get one thing fucking straight…” Frank started, turning in Gerard’s arms and pushing him against the back of the couch, “This is my fault, too. You didn’t do anything to me.”  
Their faces were inches apart. Frank’s eyes were dark and wild, angry and desperate. His bed-head only made him look crazier.  
“I turned you. Maybe.” Gerard reminded softly, returning Frank’s stare.  
“I _let_ you.” Frank pointed out, “You have to cut this shit out, because you tried to get me to stay away. I didn’t listen. I _couldn’t._ ”  
They’d done this less than 24 hours ago and yet when Frank’s lips connected with his, it felt like Gerard had been offered water after having wandered in the desert all day. They fit together so perfectly, too, Gerard thought, as Frank pressed himself closer.  
Frank ducked his head to mouth at Gerard’s neck and Gerard let his eyes fall closed. He’d have to find a graceful way to maneuver them onto the couch in a moment. Of course, the floor was still an option. He didn’t really want to be wandering Frank’s showcase with rug burns on his knees later on, but he’d been wanting to try the floor for awhile...  
“Are you starting to feel it yet?” Gerard asked.  
“What? _This?_ ” Frank asked, sliding his hand over Gerard’s dick.  
“No.” Gerard breathed, grabbing Frank’s wrist, “The urge to… fuck everything? The moon’s getting closer, you know?”  
“I don’t um, I don’t think so?” Frank mused, “But if you’re asking… that means you must be?”  
Gerard groaned. What was the use denying it? He was already getting the cravings. Like hunger pangs, but worse. He was almost embarrassed by how turned on he was, already prepared to say anything that would keep Frank in his space, pressing into him.  
“I don’t have _time for this_ right now, Gee.” Frank grumbled softly, cupping Gerard’s face with his hands and smiling sympathetically.  
“You started it.” Gerard pointed out.  
“I didn’t think you’d get so…” Frank trailed off, smirking.  
“Entranced?” Gerard finished, trying to pull Frank close again, “...Where do you even have to be? It’s so fucking early.”  
“I was supposed to grab coffee with an apartment broker before heading over to the venue to oversee set-up, and keg deliveries… and maybe a cake if that didn’t get fucked up, too? But now with the flowers, I’m not sure about the cake… Jamia might get to yell at more people than we originally planned.” Frank shrugged, looking more and more grim as the details of his day started to fall into place in his head.  
“Apartment broker?” Gerard asked, blinking away Frank’s personal brand of lovespell. The moon wasn’t _that_ close. He could will away the urges more easily than he cared to admit. All it took was a little effort.  
“Yeah. We’re supposed to look at some places next week.” Frank explained, “That’s why I was _trying_ to find my fucking paperwork. From the last place? To explain why I had to break my lease? …I swear it was in here somewhere.”  
Frank spun around to continue digging through his box. Gerard stared hard at Frank’s back. The muscles in his back moved under one of Gerard’s old t-shirts as he pushed the papers around.  
“Frank…” Gerard sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Can’t you just… _stay?”_  
Frank paused, turning to look at Gerard again.  
“Stay…” Frank repeated slowly, obviously confused, “Stay... _here?_ I can’t. If someone hasn’t already baked a guitar-shaped cake on a bed of edible glitter I’m a _dead man._ But _tomorrow._ I swear, Gee, tomorrow, I’m all yours.”  
Gerard took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He could be brave for 10 seconds. He had half a thought about how ridiculous it was that he could succumb to the awful transition - those brief moments of consciousness where he could feel his ribs folding in on themselves - and yet he couldn’t ask a simple question.  
“No. Move in with me.” Gerard said evenly. There. He said it. It hadn’t even been posed as a question.  
Gerard knew it would be weird no matter how Frank responded, but he hadn’t expected Frank to just flat-out _not respond._ He counted to three before opening his eyes again.  
Frank was searching for the right words. Gerard could see it in his eyes.  
“It would be so much easier if you just… stayed.” Gerard explained, when Frank still hadn’t found them.  
“Don’t you think this is a little… _fast?”_ Frank blinked.  
“I wouldn’t ask you under different circumstances. If you had your own place, I wouldn’t be asking at all…” Gerard sighed, “But you don’t. And I want you here. I like having you here. I don’t really see any reason why you shouldn’t just _stay.”_  
“You’re not just saying that because you want me to kiss you again, are you?” Frank asked curiously.  
Gerard’s brow furrowed, ready to get defensive. He realized a little too slow that Frank was only joking.  
“Kidding…” Frank sighed, glancing around the room, “This is your space though. Don’t you like having your own space?”  
“I like my space...” Gerard agreed, turning his head to try and follow Frank’s gaze, “But I like you in my space just as well.”  
Frank bit his lip.  
“I have to think about this...” Frank said neutrally, giving Gerard this overwhelming, well-meaning look.  
Gerard nodded, taking a deep breath.  
“But I’m still getting coffee with the apartment broker.” Frank added.  
“Seriously?” Gerard countered gently, “What was that whole thing about the guitar-shaped cake? I didn’t even know edible glitter existed up until two minutes ago, first of all. But second, you could be kissing me instead. I’m not going to tell you what to do but there’s… no need for you to leave. Like, at all. Unless you want to, which...”  
Gerard trailed off, trying to get a read on Frank. Of course, he was unreadable. For the thousandth time, couldn’t lycanthropy just come with telepathy? How was this fair?  
“It’s not that. I just… Just…” Frank sighed, “Bear with me. It’s the… Independent woman thing.”  
“Independent…” Gerard repeated, “Wait, what?”  
“Raised by a single mom remember?” Frank explained with a small smile, “Feel like I can to do everything by myself. Feel like I’m _supposed_ to do everything by myself.”  
“Right.” Gerard nodded.  
“It’s a punk thing, too.” Frank said, “Even if I’m not an independent woman, no one ever can say I’m not punk.”  
“I guess not.” Gerard agreed casually.  
  
They stared at each other in silence. Gerard was waiting for Frank to say something. The air around them had grown tense. Frank hadn’t said ‘no’, but he technically hadn’t said yes either. Gerard was a little stumped on how to formally approach this anyways. Frank already had a fucking key so that was out.  
“You’re serious about this?” Frank asked.  
“I basically ruined your life, it’s the least I can do.” Gerard said.  
“But are you offering because you think you owe me or because you want me here?” Frank asked.  
“Both.” Gerard answered.  
“You don’t owe me anything.” Frank said, “If I ever made you think any different...”  
Frank moved into Gerard’s space and pecked him on the lips. He slid his hands onto Gerard’s shoulders.  
“So you’ll stay?” Gerard asked, closing his eyes and savoring Frank’s warm breath. He pulled Frank closer, ignoring the wave of emotion that came with the voice in the back of his head that said, _“mine.”_  
“I have to think about it.” Frank said again, “We can talk about it… tomorrow? When I don’t have edible glitter and angry lawyers and sound techs to worry about? Don’t you have work now anyways?”  
Work. Gerard had forgotten about work. How _the fuck_ Frank could remember Gerard’s schedule better than Gerard could was _beyond him._  
“I do.” Gerard realized.  
“Tomorrow then.” Frank sighed.  
“What the fuck am I supposed to wear tonight anyways? Is it casual? Formal?” Gerard mused. Frank blinked thoughtfully for a moment.  
“It’s um… just wear something tight and all black? And tease your hair up the way you do.” Frank said, reaching up a hand to ruffle Gerard’s hair, “I like the fresh-out-of-bed look.”  
“Kay.” Gerard nodded.  
Frank leaned in and pressed a kiss to Gerard’s cheek, before turning back to his box to find his paperwork. Gerard took a deep breath and wandered into the kitchen to start coffee. Frank hadn’t made any, since he was going out for coffee. Gerard couldn’t remember the last time he’d only had to make enough for one.  
He opted to give Frank his space, and stared at the coffee machine as he waited for it to finish brewing. After some time Frank drifted into the kitchen to kiss him goodbye, with a tattered folder under one arm and an overly-stuffed messenger bag pulling down on his shoulder.  
“See you tonight.” Gerard promised as the coffee pot gurgled.  
“Yeah. See you.” Frank agreed, “Don’t be late.”  
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Gerard swore.  
  
Getting ready for work consisted of trying to mellow out the wolfish urges. Frank wouldn’t be back for hours, so Gerard assumed it was safe enough to fry up some bacon. He lit a candle when he was done and cracked a few windows in hopes the smell would dissipate by the time Frank came back. He was still so wound up from Frank’s torturous kisses, jacking off seemed inevitable. He made it quick, since he still had to pick out an outfit for later. He left the house feeling satiated, with the clothes he intended to wear to the showcase laid out on his bed.  
Usually he put on headphones for the subway ride up to the art store. Today he felt strangely calm, uninterested in the distractions of music. There was too much to think about. The last thing he needed was a distraction.  
His coworker, Ray smiled at him as he entered the art store. A few customers perused the aisles - typical for a Saturday afternoon. Luckily they’d just gotten in a shipment of paints, which meant Gerard had a bit of restocking to do. Restocking meant the time would pass quicker.  
Their boss wasn’t expected to come in at all, which meant Ray could play whatever death metal he wanted. Gerard doodled a grim reaper surfing a wave of flames and taped it to the register for Ray.  
“How come you always draw me skeletons?” Ray asked when he noticed the drawing, “I mean you’re really good at drawing ‘em. But what about monsters and stuff? Like, zombies? Or werewolves?”  
Gerard’s brain short circuited for a moment. His eyes widened and he blinked at Ray, totally stunned.  
“Sorry man. I know better than anyone that art’s personal.” Ray amended, “Skeletons just seem way harder. You draw em so realistic. Like, all the bones and shit...”  
Ray rand his fingers over the tear in the reaper’s robe, brushing over the ribs.  
“No it’s cool.” Gerard assured, “I just… never thought about it, I guess?”  
Ray didn’t know. He _couldn’t_ know.  
“And there’s ways to avoid drawing the whole skeletal structure your know?” Gerard added nervously, “Why do you think the grim reaper wears a robe? It’s not because it’s badass. It’s because the first dude that drew the grim reaper didn’t wanna have to draw all those ribs and shit. That’s what I think.”  
“Huh. I never thought about it like that.” Ray said, starting to idly tap out the rhythm of some song in his head on the counter.  
“Industry secret: Artists are fucking lazy.” Gerard said, earning a cough of disapproval from an older woman perusing the greeting cards by the registers.  
The rest of his shift dragged on without without any heart-stopping coincidences, though Gerard was practically clawing and howling at the door by the time Ray finally locked it and flipped the sign from ‘open’ to ‘closed.’  
It was always worse at night. Frank _had_ called him a creature of the night. And for once, Gerard embraced this idea. He smoked a cigarette on his walk to the subway, feeling the faint buzz of the curse heightening everything happening around him. Smells. Voices. Sounds of the city.  
As he took the subway back to his apartment, he wished he’d brought his headphones. He needed a distraction from the people around him on the train. He was too aware of their presence, their proximity, their weird blends of smells. Groceries and perfumes and sweat. Cigarettes. Alcohol. Library books. Dust.  
He didn’t want to go out at all tonight. He wanted to go back in his apartment, preferably with his boyfriend, and tend to the whims of his curse. He had no interest meeting any more of Mikey’s sceney friends. He hadn’t been a friend their friend who had passed away, either, so he had no right to be there.  
Gerard smoked another cigarette after he got off the train, reminding himself that even if he wasn’t cursed, he’d have to go to Frank’s party anyways. It was the sort of thing boyfriends did, Gerard presumed. And Gerard wanted to keep his boyfriend.  
He’d have to explain to Frank how weird things got around the moon so that they could plan around it. There would inevitably be some things Gerard would have to miss. Some things Gerard would ruin with his bad moods. Some things Frank would be better off doing without Gerard by his side.  
It wasn’t chain smoking if the two smokes were separated by a 20 minute train ride, was it? Gerard could admit he was sort of on edge.  
He practically ran for the familiarity of his apartment. Unlocking the locks, he noticed the bacon smell was still sort of there. Frank hopefully wouldn’t notice.  
Gerar pulled out his phone and found a text from Frank.  
‘bring espresso’ was all it said.  
No capitalization, no punctuation.  
He immediately started on his hair. He smudged product into the roots, willing them into chaos. He fussed with his hair until it was a mess, dark locks jutting out all used and abused. Gerard groaned, realizing he’d have to not only take the shirt he was wearing off, but also pull a new shirt on - without messing up his hair. As he tugged off his t-shirt he tried to think of where the fuck he could procure espresso on his way to the party. He’d have to put more product in his hair and go a few extra blocks out of the way, but that was just fine by him. More chain smoking.  
  
As Gerard wandered into the dark music venue and told the first person he saw that he was looking for Frank. As the girl looked him over, eyeing the cardboard tray with a single coffee cup in his hand, he wondered if he should mention that he was Frank’s boyfriend. After having a mini heart attack, he realized that he probably wasn’t the first person to walk in the door looking for Frank. She pointed her heavily tattooed fingers towards the back of the venue, which Gerard could’ve probably figured out without her help, but hey.  
He got more than a few glares from pretty punk dudes with almost as many tattoos as Frank as he made his way behind the stage. People on ladders were hanging balloons and streamers and banners. Everything seemed to be coming together for the evening.  
Every pretty punk Gerard asked had ‘literally just seen Frank’ and promised to tell Frank that Gerard was looking for him. No one bothered to ask who Gerard was, saving him the headache of trying to figure out if it was okay to say he was Frank’s boyfriend.  
Frank’s latte was lukewarm by the time Gerard got it to him. Gerard found him hugging a clipboard by the soundbooth, babbling excitedly to some menacing metalhead dude who looked like he could easily bench press Frank if he wanted to.  
Gerard wasn’t entirely sure how Frank was even standing, let alone _giggling._  
The metalhead looked up when he saw Gerard approaching. Frank smiled as he turned and spotted Gerard, big and sincere. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had looked so happy to see him.  
“I could fucking _kiss you.”_ Frank said, accepting the disposable cup Gerard handed over.  
“ _Oh wait._ ” he amended, leaning forward to peck Gerard on the lips.  
“Hey.” Gerard said, sort of paralyzed by the affection. He could still feel the metalhead’s eyes on them. When he glanced over though, the guy was looking away.  
“Gerard, this is Bob.” Frank said, taking a step back, to wave his latte in the metalhead’s direction, “He sucks a lot, but he knows his way around a soundboard so we keep him around.”  
“Is that really how you’ve been describing me to people?” Metalhead Bob asked.  
“Just the girls that ask me for your phone number.” Frank retorted, “Bob, this is my boyfriend, Gerard.”  
Gerard’s heart fluttered a little at Frank’s casualness as Bob reached out and firmly shook his hand. And yeah, wow, this guy could definitely bench press Frank if he wanted to. Gerard made a note to not piss him off.  
“Nice to meet you, boyfriend.” Bob said cheerily, and then turned his focus back towards Frank, “Anyways, so they’ll let me know at sound check if I need to mic the drums or not, right?”  
“Uh, yeah. Double check with the artists, though.” Frank nodded, hugging his clipboard tighter, “But I don’t think we’re supposed to get too loud…”  
Bob gave Frank and knowing smirk and chased after a passing guy wrestling an armful of cables.  
  
Frank turned back to Gerard and took a sip of his latte.  
“Sorry it’s cold.” Gerard said, clearing his throat.  
“No, this is perfect-” Frank said, taking another sip, “Chugging temperature.”  
“Do you have time for a smoke break?” Gerard asked.  
“Not at all.” Frank said, gesturing with his clipboard, “But yes.”  
Frank beckoned for Gerard to follow him, down a long dimly lit hallway that emptied out into the alley behind the building. He leaned against the fire exit door to let Gerard out, kicking a wastebin into the doorway to hold the door open for them. A few rolling carts holding trays of bouquets were lined against the outer brick wall of the building.  
“I see Jamia got the flowers sorted.” Gerard commented, earning a snort-laugh from Frank.  
He pulled out two cigarettes and placed one between his lips, and the other between Frank’s. Frank gazed up at Gerard as he pulled out his lighter and lit his cigarette for him.  
It had been awhile since Gerard had performed the gesture for anyone, let alone someone he had every intention of stunning. It was nice to know it still worked. Frank looked sufficiently stunned by it. He was still smiling as he tried to situate his clipboard under his arm to free up a hand to pull his cigarette away with.  
“What about your edible glitter?” Gerard asked, lighting his own cigarette.  
“It was only 30 minutes late. I didn’t even have to yell at anyone.” Frank said, exhaling smoke.  
“Everything’s coming together then…” Gerard said.  
“Yeah. You look great.” Frank said, sticking his cigarette back between his lips and using his free hand to mess with Gerard’s hair.  
“So do you.” Gerard said softly, smoothing down the collar of Frank’s shirt, even though it was already perfectly pressed.  
Gerard plucked Frank’s cigarette from between his lips and pressed a quick kiss onto them. Frank tried to follow him as he tried to pull away, catching his lips in another quick kiss. They couldn’t really kiss much more, between Frank’s limited time and the two lit cigarettes in Gerard’s hands. Frank’s latte and clipboard weren’t much help either. Gerard found this completely maddening, of course, though he didn’t say so.  
“Later.” Frank said softly, reclaiming his cigarette.  
“I haven’t forgotten who I’m going home with...” Gerard offered, taking a puff off his own.  
Frank blinked for a moment, obviously caught off guard by the suggestion. Gerard froze as he considered how his words might’ve been interpreted, given their conversation earlier in the day.  
“I didn’t mean…” he faltered, “Just, um, since I’m your plus one this evening...”  
“Right.” Frank nodded.  
“If there’s anything I can do to help in there…” Gerard said, looking for a subject change.  
“I’m sure there’s something.” Frank said, “But listen, Gerard, you know I want to stay. I just...”  
“ _Later._ ” Gerard interrupted, “I wasn’t trying to spring anything on you. We’ll have plenty of time to talk about this later.”  
“Later.” Frank agreed, taking another long drag off his smoke, “Um, I still need someone to set out all the candles after they’re finished with the rest of the decorations. They have to be placed carefully so that the decorations don’t catch on fire and burn the place down with all of my friends still locked inside.”  
“I can probably manage.” Gerard smiled.  
“Great. I still think this is all a bit excessive...” Frank sighed, “Six packs on someone’s rooftop would’ve been more appropriate.”  
“It’s for the rest of the band, too.” Gerard pointed out, “I think it’s a nice gesture. It’s important to celebrate the living as much as the dead. We’re the ones who have to carry on without them, you know?”  
“Well put.” Frank said, “But six packs on someone’s rooftop is just so much less planning.”  
“You got me there.” Gerard admitted, crushing his cigarette under his boot. He reached for Frank’s clipboard and his latte and held onto them while Frank finished his smoke.  
“I’m sort of surprised someone hasn’t come looking for me yet.” Frank commented.  
And like clockwork, someone immediately poked their head out of the emergency exit door asking Frank for specifics on guestlist details.  
Frank put Gerard to work, placing candles in jars, and then setting them up around the venue. He sort of got what Frank had meant about the fire hazard as soon as he saw the alarming amount of streamers hanging from everywhere they could be laid.  
Gerard noticed the photo booth in the corner as well, and hoped he’d find a moment to pull Frank away.  
Mikey and Alicia showed up just as Gerard was starting to light the candles. Frank stopped by to give them each a handful of guitar picks out of a large plastic bag.  
“Drink tokens.” he explained, “Let me know if you need more.”  
It was Alicia’s suggestion that they get a head start and order their first round of drinks. Gerard ordered a drink, but didn’t touch it. He was hoping to keep himself together enough to talk to Frank after the party, which meant he’d have to pace himself. They sat at the bar and watched as the final pieces fell into place. The first band was setting up so everything would be in order for them to play.  
Guests started flooding in. The room got very loud very quickly. Music started playing over the speakers. People ordered drinks and started to fill out the room, chatting with other guests. It didn’t read like a room full of people in mourning at all. Gerard couldn’t figure out why the fuck Frank had invited his old, failed apartment broker. He kept his head down and prayed he wasn’t recognizable. He had no interest in shooting the shit with Adam at all.  
Frank was still floating around with his clipboard, helping Bob with sound stuff. Eventually Jamia appeared, looking absolutely stunning in a slinky, black, floor-length gown. She hugged Gerard and Mikey and even Alicia and thanked them all for coming and continued to make her rounds.  
Gerard lost sight of Frank entirely, and focused instead on his brother. Mikey was quizzing Alicia on the names and claims of various groups of guests around the room. Trying to digest who was fucking who and who was in what band was distracting to say the least. Everyone was fucking everyone, it seemed. Gerard wasn’t sure if he was surprised or not.  
“And that’s Frank’s ex, right?” Alicia asked, pointing to a guy in the corner in a dark suit, sipping on a glass of champagne.  
“Yep.” Mikey answered happily, “Good memory.” They moved right along to discussing another girl standing a few feet away. Gerard tuned the two of them out as he stared Frank’s ex up and down.  
Eventually Mikey glanced over at Gerard, obviously detecting his older brother’s curiosity.  
“It was a long time ago.” Mikey offered, “You have nothing to worry about.”  
Frank had obviously dated other people before. It wasn’t that Gerard thought he was the first. Something didn’t sit right with him, though. It wasn’t jealousy. Well, maybe a little bit of jealousy. The guy was good looking, not that Frank deserved any less. Maybe Gerard was just off-put by the fact that he was standing all alone, not talking to anyone. He seemed sort of familiar, though maybe he just had one of those faces. Gerard’s stomach dropped at the thought.  
He caught sight of a flash of ink on the guy’s hand as he raised his glass. His bottom lip was pierced as well. The guy was the opposite of Gerard in so many ways, from the clean-cut hair, to the stretched ears. Either Frank didn’t have a type, or his type had changed. Gerard refused to accept it was even possible that he wasn’t Frank’s _type._  
Gerard’s head snapped in the direction of the stage as he heard Frank’s voice over the sound system. Frank was squinting into the lights, standing in front of the mic. The band was standing behind him, instruments in hand, ready to play.  
In some ways, the event sort of almost read like a funeral reception. Frank said a few words on the reason for the evening, thanking the friends and family of the deceased for coming, thanking the bands for playing. He hopped off the stage and into the crowd, letting the first band start.  
Gerard was itching for another smoke after the first song, so he slipped out the front. He realized, after he passed the front door security, that he didn’t have identification of any kind. No wristband, no stamp on his hand, no badge. He couldn’t remember if Mikey and Alicia had been wearing any kind of identifiers... He’d figure it out.  
Gerard found a place to stand and smoke a little ways from the entrance. He shot a quick text to Frank, asking if Frank could let him back inside in a few minutes.  
He leaned against the outer wall and lit a cigarette, closing his eyes and listening to vibrations of the bass coming from inside.  
Someone cleared their throat beside him after a beat.  
“Sorry to bother you, but do you got a light?” they asked.  
Gerard opened his eyes to find Frank’s ex standing beside him with a cigarette dangling from his lips. _For fuck’s sake_ , Gerard thought.  
“Uh, sure.” Gerard nodded, passing the guy his lighter.  
“Thanks.” he said, lighting up and passing the lighter back.  
“No problem.” Gerard returned.  
The guy made no motion to move away, and even looked like he might say something else. The smell of his cologne drifted towards Gerard on the wind. Gerard tried not to analyze it too much.Of course, this was the precise moment Frank decided to show up, clipboard still in-hand.  
“Hey…” He said, glancing between his ex and Gerard.  
“Hey.” Gerard echoed.  
“Do you two… _know each other?_ ” Frank asked curiously.  
“We just met. Sort of.” Frank’s ex said, eyeing Gerard, “Though, you do look kind of familiar. Are you in a band or something? Maybe we played together before.”  
“Uh, _no._ ” Gerard said, glancing over at Frank. He could practically see the color drain from Frank’s face, “Not in a band.”  
“Jeph, this is my boyfriend, Gerard.” Frank offered.  
“No shit.” Jeph said, reaching out a hand for Gerard to shake, “I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.”  
“It’s kind of a new thing.” Frank said, gesturing towards his ex, “Uh, Gerard, Jeph’s my ex. He was a good friend of Turner’s.”  
Gerard nodded, weakly shaking Jeph’s hand. He wondered if Frank’s ex could detect the ice in Frank’s voice as well as Gerard could.  
“ _Was._ ” Jeph repeated, “It’s still so weird to use the past tense.”  
“I know.” Frank agreed solemnly, “It’s been weirding me out all night.”  
“His mom’s here. Did you invite her?” Jeph asked.  
“Jamia’s idea.” Frank answered.  
“Of course.” Jeph nodded.  
They fell silent. An awkward tension had formed around them. Gerard thought he was imagining it at first, but it was practically radiating off of Frank in little waves. This, Jeph seemed to pick up on. He cleared his throat.  
“Well, I’m gonna go back inside, I think.” Jeph offered, crushing his half-smoked cigarette under his shoe, “Was nice meeting you, Gerard.”  
“You as well.” Gerard waved.  
Frank waited until Jeph was out of earshot.  
“Did you, um…” Frank trailed off.  
“Did I what?” Gerard asked. He knew exactly ‘what,’ but he wasn’t about to throw himself under the bus like that.  
“You and Jeph?” Frank asked, “I’m not mad, it’s just…”  
“Just because he recognized me from somewhere _**does not**_ mean I had sex with him.” Gerard pointed out, managing to sound relatively sure of himself. He’d meant to say it with more venom, but it was hard to get upset when Frank was looking at him like that.  
Frank nodded, hugging his clipboard closer.  
“I’m sorry.” Frank said, taking a deep breath, “I shouldn’t have assumed. I’m just… _so on edge._ ”  
“I think I know what you mean.” Gerard agreed, taking a drag off his smoke, “It’s okay.”  
“I just… want everyone to have a good time?” Frank said, “Or something. I don’t know.”  
“I think everyone _is_ having a good time.” Gerard offered, “Everyone but you. I know it’s hard to tell when you’re the host.”  
Frank nodded again, biting his lip.  
They headed back inside. Frank nodded to the bouncer, linking arms with Gerard as they passed him by. Frank gave Gerard a wristband so it wouldn’t happen again.  
He found Alicia and Mikey, doing shots with Jamia and a few others. Someone passed one to Gerard and he knocked it back.  
He lost sight of Frank again, and that was alright. He didn’t expect to be at Frank’s side the whole time. But Gerard still hadn’t figured out how Frank wanted him at these functions. When Gerard went out with Mikey it was easy. They’d split up and work the crowds separately, each with their own agenda to take care of. It was different with Frank, though. Gerard wasn’t sure if Frank wanted him to meet all these people, or if he was just wanted Gerard there for moral support.  
At some point Gerard realized he was brooding, though he wasn’t sure why. Maybe he was more offended by Frank thinking he’d hooked up with Jeph than he’d let himself admit. Frank hadn’t been totally out of bounds. Gerard _had_ slept around. It wasn’t impossible that they’d hooked up with the same guy at some point.  
It seemed petty to even care when they had bigger things to worry about, but that didn’t stop Gerard from downing the next shot someone handed him.  
Gerard hadn’t been to very many funerals in his time. He’d been to his grandmother’s obviously, but he’d still been in shock at that point, and couldn’t remember what everyone else had been doing. He had no idea if getting wasted at this kind of thing was normal. In between bands, there were more speeches - people who’d known Frank’s drummer friend recalled their favorite memories. After the third band finished, closing out with a heartfelt statement, people were crying. Gerard looked over and _Frank and Jamia_ were crying on each other. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to go over and give Frank a hug, or take a fucking picture. He acted on neither of the impulses.  
Gerard wasn’t sure when Frank had even found the time to get drunk, but he wasn’t totally surprised either. Jamia was crafty like that. She somehow managed to still look absolutely stunning, even with thick trails of black makeup running down her cheeks along with the tears. The next time Gerard made eye contact with Mikey, the younger way was shooting him a sympathetic glance. Perhaps he’d spotted the drunken, crying mess Gerard’s boyfriend had become and realized Gerard would probably be the one to get him home in one piece.  
Someone walked past Gerard with a chunk of guitar on a plate after the last band finished playing. It was covered in glitter, too. _Cake,_ Gerard realized. They were serving cake. Before he could even figure out where the cake was, Alicia appeared out of the crowd and passed him a slice. It looked like a chunk of fretboard. It was hard to tell in the dim. He stuck a bite in his mouth. The thick, sweet chocolate didn’t mix so well with the sip of beer he’d had before. It left a bitter taste in his mouth. The glitter was something of an interest, he gathered a few flecks on the tip of his finger and shoved them into his mouth as well. They tasted vaguely of sugar, but mostly like nothing. His taste was a little off from all the cigarettes he’d smoked, to be fair.  
After cake, people started to clear the room. Balloons and confetti, fake flowers and bits of ripped up streamers. The thick scent of blown out candles overpowered everything else. The lights brightened, the room slowly got quiet as everyone left. Soon it was just Mikey and Alicia, Gerard, Frank, Jamia, and the rest of the staff.  
Frank had stopped crying sort of. His eyes were red and puffy, but he’d mostly sobered himself. He’d lost his clipboard at some point. He leaned into Gerard as soon as he got close enough, and stayed glued to his side, speechless and spent.  
“Do we need to like, clean up?” Gerard asked, wrapping an arm around Frank’s shoulders. His ears were ringing. He watched a guy across the room sweeping empty plastic cups and bits of glitter into a pile in the middle of the floor. Just watching the guy was making Gerard tired.  
“The venue will do that, you should just… get Frankie home.” Jamia croaked, grinning sympathetically at Gerard, “Do you need me to call you guys a cab?”  
“I can flag one down.” Gerard said, waving her off with his free hand.  
He said his goodbyes to Mikey and Alicia and then he was alone with Frank again, out on the cold sidewalk, under the cloudless sky. A few party straglers stood outside the venue, smoking cigarettes and waiting for rides. A considerable amount of glitter had been tracked out onto the sidewalk. Moonlight sparkled off of the little flecks. The moon was low on the horizon, about halfway to full. Gerard pretended he couldn’t see it, even though he felt it’s heavy gaze.  
Frank was quiet, and Gerard let him stay quiet, wrapped up in his own thoughts as well.  
They flagged a cab down easily. It was warm inside the cabin. Frank fell asleep on Gerard’s shoulder before he could even finish giving the driver directions to his apartment. Gerard pressed his lips against Frank’s hair to savor the lingering smell of blown out candles mixed in with his hair product.  
Gerard stared out the window and thought idly about who he might’ve tried to go home with tonight, if he weren’t with Frank. It was strange to think there was a good chance those days were over. For good. Gerard hadn’t really let himself accept that yet.  
Maybe he would’ve ended up going home with Frank anyways, even if Mikey hadn’t re-introduced them. Gerard had a feeling Frank would’ve never allowed it, but he also couldn’t shake the feeling they might’ve ended up together either way. He’d never admit this to Frank, of course.  
“Do you think everyone had fun?” Frank asked in a groggy voice, clearing his throat, startling Gerard from his thoughts.  
“I think I’d like it if you planned my funeral reception…” Gerard offered, running a hand through Frank’s hair, “Dying should always be this fun.”  
Frank lifted his head enough to shoot Gerard a sleepy smile, before nuzzling closer and drifting off again.  
A few minutes of quiet shut-eye and they were in front of Gerard’s building, tipping the driver and stumbling out of the cab. Gerard let Frank attempt the first few flights of stairs before just picking him up and carrying him.  
“Have you always been able to do this?” Frank asked groggily, arms wrapped tightly around Gerard’s neck.  
“It’s easier around the moon.” Gerard huffed.  
“Kinda feel like I’m in a fairy tale.” Frank said, “Beauty and the beast, maybe.”  
Gerard just rolled his eyes.  
“Wait.” Frank added, “Pretend I didn’t say that out loud.”  
“Sure.” Gerard laughed breathily, carefully lowering Frank onto his feet again at the top of the stairs. His cheeks were still tear-stained. His eyes weren’t so red anymore, but the dark circles were more than a little impressive.  
“But to be clear, I’d be the beauty in that scenario.” Frank announced, “Or maybe we’d both be the beast?”  
“We’ll find out soon enough.” Gerard said softly, pulling out his keys.  
Frank slid between Gerard and the front door and pulled Gerard in for a slow, warm kiss, tangling his hands in the front of Gerard’s shirt. The smell of blown-out candles lingered, reminding Gerard of so many different things. Frank’s lips distracted him from thinking too hard on any of them.  
It took them a little while to make it inside, but they headed straight for bed, chasing the promise of more lazy kissing and eventually, sleep. They were both too tired to undress fully, only managing to lose their shoes and coats before crawling under the covers. Gerard tried to not think too hard about the amount of hair product they were probably getting on the pillow cases as he wrapped an arm around Frank to pull him closer.  
“Can I ask you something?” Gerard asked quietly.  
Frank nodded, blinking back the urge to shut his eyes.  
“Would you say you have a type?” Gerard asked.  
Frank furrowed his brow, obviously not following.  
“Like, a particular taste, in men? Or women? _People._ ” Gerard elaborated.  
“I guess I haven’t really thought about it.” Frank answered, “Why? Do you?”  
“I don’t know.” Gerard answered, “I like guys with… tattoos? Piercings? Uh… brown eyes? Bad attitudes. Who don’t like tea-”  
“You can’t just describe me. That’s cheating.” Frank snorted, covering Gerard’s mouth with his hand, “Is this about my ex? I’m sorry I forgot to mention he was coming. I meant to tell you...”  
“It just made me think…” Gerard admitted, “It’s not that I’m jealous or anything. I’m just so _different_ than him, you know? Are you normally into guys like him?”  
“If I wanted someone like him I’d find someone like him.” Frank said, “But I don’t. I want you. Jealousy, and all. Which, hey, that reminds me…”  
Frank sat up and unbuttoned his shirt pocket. He pulled out a small plastic bag of glittery gold… Before Gerard could even figure out what the fuck it was, Frank had upended the bag and was pouring it out all over him.  
“What the fuck?” Gerard complained, squeezing his eyes shut.  
“There was some extra edible glitter leftover.” Frank explained, “Don’t worry I’ll clean it up.”  
Frank leaned down to lick a few flecks off of Gerard’s cheek. Gerard officially wasn’t upset about the glitter anymore. Frank tried to pick up a few sparkles and drop them on himself, only managing to drop them on Gerard again.  
“I did some research.” Frank said, “I think I know why you don’t get along with other wolves so well.”  
Frank ran a hand through the glitter on Gerard’s shirt.  
“It’s not that I don’t get along with them…” Gerard offered hesitantly.  
“I think you might be an alpha.” Frank explained, “Has Mikey ever suggested that?”  
“He did tell us to look up pack politics the other day.” Gerard blinked.  
“And one of us actually _did._ If you’re an alpha you wouldn’t be able to fit in with another pack, because you’re supposed to start your own.” Frank said, “I’m not exactly sure how it works… But that would make a lot of sense, wouldn’t it?”  
“I don’t know?” Gerard said, “I mean, I’ve never fit in anywhere...”  
“If you turned me, that makes me part of your pack.” Frank added, “And anyone else you turn. Maybe that’s how you became an Alpha? It could’ve been the binding curse too...Or maybe you always were one.”  
“Mikey doesn’t need any more wolves to worry about.” Gerard said firmly.  
“See? That’s what I’m talking about.” Frank said, sliding on top of Gerard, “You get all _demandy_ and controlling about anything even _remotely_ related to pack stuff. And you were totally jealous of Jepha, by the way.”  
“Maybe a little at first.” Gerard admitted quietly, rolling his hips to wrestle Frank onto his back. The glitter was definitely all over the place now.  
“We’ll have to keep your shit in check. You can’t get away with being a jealous, controlling asshole _all the time._ But if it’s pack stuff…. ” Frank trailed off, gazing up at Gerard with a small, satisfied grin.  
“I wasn’t _that_ jealous. I already knew who I was going home with.” Gerard said evenly, knowing that in not defending himself, he was letting Frank win.  
“It’s good to be home, isn’t it?” Frank agreed smugly.  
~  
  
They woke up absolutely covered in glitter. Frank was worse off than Gerard, sporting an incredible hangover, amplified by the dehydration of crying. The glitter had melted to their skin overnight. The climbed into the shower together, kissing and caressing until the glitter and hair product melted away.  
Frank had promised Gerard they could spend the day together, so they bundled up and headed out. It had been awhile since Gerard had gone out for brunch. Between Alicia being home from tour, and all the Frank stuff, he and Mikey hadn’t done breakfast together in a while. Frank was obviously the next best choice.  
They found a place downtown with only an hour wait time. Unheard of for Manhattan on a cold Sunday morning. Frank put their names on the waitlist, and Gerard suggested they pop into the comic shop the next block down to keep warm while they waited. His reasons were only half-selfish. He really _did_ want to keep Frank warm.  
Frank ducked into a coffee shop to get them both a cup of coffee on the walk over to the comic shop. Gerard knew the people working at the comic shop wouldn’t like it if they brought coffee in, but he kept his mouth shut, since Frank was nice enough to indulge Gerard’s hobby in spite of his hangover.  
The familiar smell of dusty old back issues was a welcome intrusion on Gerard’s senses. The quiet, dimly lit shop dug far into the belly of the old building. Gerard skipped past the ‘New Arrivals’ section and headed straight for the back, not looking for anything in particular. Frank trailed after him as he skimmed through the 99cent bins, pulling out anything and everything that even vaguely resembled a wolf-like monster. It was cute the first couple of times, but Gerard gave him a warning look after awhile. Frank stuck out his lower lip in a firm pout and wandered off to another section of the store.  
Gerard continued his browsing, sipping on the latte Frank had gotten him. As he was skimming a rack of zines, he detected a waft of human, could feel someone’s eyes on him. He glanced up and found a familiar face staring back at him.  
Vaguely familiar. The guy had been an old booty call. He had messy hair and impressive stubble. A huge tattoo took up one side of his neck, and his name was inconveniently escaping Gerard at the moment. Brent? Brendon? Something with a B, for sure.  
“Gerard, hey.” he said.  
“Uh, _hey._ ” Gerard offered, glancing around for Frank. This could get weird. _Fast._ They needed to leave, “What’re you doing here?”  
“I work here.” the guy said, lifting up a badge that read ‘Staff.’  
“Oh. Of course.” Gerard smiled.  
“Were you looking for something in particular?” booty call asked.  
“Just browsing.” Gerard said.  
“Cool...” he nodded.  
Yep. _Weird. **Fast.**_ **  
**Somewhere behind them Gerard heard the beautiful chorus of comic books thudding against the old tiles. A shelf had fallen down. It probably wasn’t Frank’s fault, but Frank stared right back at them, looking guilty as ever, engulfed in a plume of dust motes.  
Gerard’s old flame immediately made his way over the pile to start straightening the books.  
“Totally not your fault, dude!” the guy promised, with a sincere smile in Frank’s direction, “I’ve been waiting for that shelf to come down for weeks.”  
“Let me help.” Frank insisted, immediately getting down on his knees to help anyways.  
This was getting _weirder._ Gerard sipped his latte and tried to think of how the fuck they could back out now.  
“So what have you been up to, Gerard?” the guy asked.  
“Art. Work. Music. Same old, same old.” Gerard said, hoping Frank wouldn’t detect the plastic quality his voice had taken on, “Um, what about you?”  
Of course Frank immediately looked up at him curiously. Gerard glanced away.  
“In between tours, you know?” the guy said, getting to his feet and offering Frank a hand to help him up as well. He dusted off his knees and grinned at Gerard.  
“What was your band called again?” Gerard asked.  
“Can’t believe you don’t remember.” the guy purred, “All those times I got you back stage...”  
“Don’t have the best memory.” Gerard shrugged.  
“We should get a drink or something.” the guy smiled, “ We could catch up. I might be able to _refresh your memory?_ ”  
 **Fucking shit.**  
“I’d like that…” Gerard nodded, “But, um… I don’t know?”  
Frank mouthed _‘what the fuck?’_ and furrowed his brow. Gerard was going _to hell_ for this. He set his latte down on the nearest shelf and gestured towards the frowning punk beside him.  
“This is Frank, by the way.” Gerard supplied nervously.  
“Hey Frank, _Brian._ ” the guy said, holding out a hand for Frank to shake.  
Frank cleared his throat, eyeing Brian’s hand.  
“Gerard can I see you outside for a second?” Frank asked darkly, grabbing Gerard by the front of his coat. Gerard let himself be pulled, feeling sort of like a dog on a leash. He’d never admit it to Frank. Frank would never let him live it down.  
“Uh, see you around, Brian? Sorry about your shelf.” Gerard called over his shoulder as Frank tugged him out of the store.  
  
It had started to snow. It was a little late in the year for it to stick. It would probably melt within the hour. The little flecks were sticking to Frank’s hair as he glared daggers at Gerard.  
“What the _fucking fuck_ was that?” Frank asked.  
“I don’t know? I panicked!” Gerard said, scrambling for an explanation.  
Frank pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a deep sigh. He started to laugh at the end of his exhale. It was a terrifying, humorless laugh. Gerard’s blood ran cold.  
“You gave me the keys to your apartment, you want me to stay, but you can’t introduce me as your fucking boyfriend?” Frank asked, “Do you have any idea how... _fucking ridiculous_ that is?”  
Frank moved closer. Gerard cringed, preparing himself for a well-deserved punch in the face. Instead Frank wrapped his arms around Gerard’s neck and kissed the everliving fuck out of him. Gerard blinked, totally frozen under Frank’s lips.  
“You’re not the only one who’s allowed to be a jealous freak.” Frank informed in a low, breathy voice, “And I hope you know how _fucking stupid_ this is. I know you’re _mine_ but I’m so... _mad at you right now._ ”  
“I’m stupid.” Gerard agreed blankly, letting Frank attack him with another kiss. Gerard kissed him back, wrapping his arms around Frank’s waist, wondering if he’d finally managed to fuck this up beyond fixing.  
“Don’t agree with me, asshole.” Frank breathed, resting his forehead against Gerard’s.  
“How do I make it up to you?” Gerard asked softly.  
“Never pull that shit again.” Frank insisted.  
“Okay.” Gerard nodded.  
They kissed again, wordlessly sealing the promise.  
“So does this mean you’ll stay?” Gerard asked.  
“Yeah. I’ll stay.” Frank said.  
~  
  
Despite their efforts to clean it up, the edible glitter somehow managed to spread all over Gerard’s apartment. _Their apartment.  
  
_ It didn’t change things much. Frank started paying half of the bills and they got a second dresser for Frank’s clothes. He brought more records back to the apartment after visiting his mom one weekend. And he often joked about painting the kitchen pink, which Gerard did not find the least bit amusing.  
It was sort of like Gerard had grown a tiny punk shadow. No matter what they were doing, Frank stuck close. When Gerard dipped into his office to work on some sketches, Frank sprawled himself out onto the carpet and flipped through one of Gerard’s comic books, bobbing his head along to the music Gerard put on. When Gerard would get up to make himself a cup of tea, Frank would drift into the kitchen a few moments later, staring vacantly into the refrigerator while Gerard stirred in a spoonful of honey. He learned pretty quick that Gerard would only allow so much criticism of his tea drinking. When Gerard would sit back down and find he’d lost his muse, Frank would follow him into the shower where they were able to distract each other from themselves until the water ran cold.  
Frank always followed him to bed, and he always fell asleep right away.  
But he never stayed asleep.  
He was plagued by insomnia, finding himself sitting in the dark, staring at the shadows the moon cast across the floor on cloudless nights.  
That seemed to be the only symptom he exhibited. Sleeplessness. Restlessness.  
He could barely keep up with Gerard’s sex drive, though he found it hard to complain about the amount of blowjobs he was receiving, especially when Gerard typically did all of the work.  
  
  
“If you didn’t turn me…” Frank started, while they were zoned out on the couch watching TV one evening, “I was thinking I could pick up a side-hustle as a magician...”  
 _“Magician?”_ Gerard asked, “Not… Musician?”  
“Think about it.” Frank said, “I could have a show once every full moon. Giant, beautiful black wolf. All I do is say his true name and he transforms into a human before your very eyes.”  
Frank swirled his hand in the air around for dramatic effect.  
“You’d put a werewolf in the same room as hundreds of innocent people?” Gerard asked skeptically.  
“You turn back when I say your name.” Frank shrugged, “They’d never be in any real danger.”  
Frank stuffed a mouthful of popcorn into his mouth and re-focused on the TV.  
“You think it’s beautiful?” Gerard asked quietly.  
“The wolf?” Frank clarified, “Hell yeah. I saw that fur up close. Real shiny. What brand of dog food has Mikey been feeding you?”  
“Not funny.” Gerard frowned.  
“Also why is the fur black?” Frank wondered, “That’s totally not your natural color. I’m pretty sure dogs can’t dye their hair...”  
“I’ve never thought about it.” Gerard said, “I’ve never even… seen what it actually looks like.”  
“We’ll get Mikey to take a picture.” Frank promised.  
Gerard leaned over and rested his head on Frank’s shoulder and Frank reached up a greasy hand to run his fingers through Gerard’s hair. He scratched his fingers behind Gerard’s ear, which he was probably never going to admit he liked. That wouldn’t stop Frank from doing it anyways.  
“Magic acts are supposed to be longer than one trick.” Gerard pointed out.  
“You ruin everything.” Frank pouted.  
“All I’m saying is you’d have to learn some more tricks.” Gerard amended, “Like, pulling a rabbit out of a hat…”  
“And then feeding it to the wolf?” Frank snorted.  
“I thought you were supposed to be a vegan...” Gerard grumbled.  
“I could put a straight jacket on you.” Frank suggested, “Getting out would be the trick.”  
“How would you even get it on in the first place?” Gerard pointed out.  
“You could be the Houdini of the animal kingdom.” Frank said, ignoring Gerard’s comment.  
This seemed to shut Gerard up. Gerard had a soft spot for Houdini.  
 _“Hairy Houdini!”_ Frank crowed, collapsing in laughter, “Like, _hair.”_ Frank held up a lock of his hair to convey his meaning.  
Gerard was not even the tiniest bit amused.  
 _“You need a haircut.”_ was all he would say on the matter.  
~  
  
Eventually, the full moon was upon them. Gerard was beside himself with nerves, hours before Mikey was expected to pick them up. He ran over everything he packed with Frank. Frank knew Gerard was trying to teach him how to do this so it would be easier next time, but Frank just wanted to zip himself up inside the extra duffle bag Gerard had gotten out for him. He wanted the moon to rise already. The suspense was well and truly killing him.  
  
They both climbed into the back seat of Mikey’s car upon discovering Alicia was riding shotgun. Frank was sort of relieved. It meant they could talk quietly amongst themselves without being overheard.  
“Alicia’s coming?” Gerard asked skeptically, glancing between the two of them in the front seat.  
“Twice the monsters, twice the work.” Mikey explained, hands on the wheel.  
  
The drive was quiet. Alicia put on The Smiths as they made their way up to the cabin. Gerard wasn’t sure if she’d picked them for their vast, lengthy discography, or if it was just to secure her place in Mikey’s heart. Perhaps it was both.  
  
Mikey kept glancing at Frank and Gerard in the rearview mirror. Gerard looked like he was about to vibrate out of his skin. Frank just looked nervous. They were huddled together. Frank totally wasn’t wearing a seatbelt, but Mikey supposed he had other things on his mind.  
Mikey had thought his brother was far beyond being in need of saving, but now, watching him whisper things to Frank, he realized how much they needed each other. He’d always thought he’d be the one to save his brother from himself, but now he realized, Frank was probably always meant to come along and fix things. Regardless of what went down when the moon rose above the trees, Gerard had managed to find someone who understood him, loved him in spite of everything he was.  
True, Mikey had been the one to set them up, but he’d never expected things to work out the way they had. He was just happy to see his brother so happy. He quietly prayed that it would last. After everything the two of them had been through, they both deserved to be happy.  
The next time he glanced back, they were sharing earbuds, listening to something on Frank’s iPod, kissing frantically. Mikey stopped looking back after that and tried to distract himself with thoughts of Morrissey.  
  
Frank felt like he was walking through a dream as he got out of the car. He’d had plenty of time to prepare for this emotionally, but as he glanced up at the silhouette of the cabin in the fading daylight he felt incredibly unprepared. The sun was dipping below the horizon as they shuffled into the house.  
The house was as cold as the outside, and dark, too.  
“We keep the heat off when we’re not here. It’ll take a little while for the place to warm up.” Gerard explained, wrapping his arms around Frank to keep him warm. Frank had a few suggestions for how they could keep each other warm but he wasn’t sure if they had time.  
“I’ll get a fire going.” Alicia offered.  
“So Frank, we’re going to put you in the basement.” Mikey said, “Gerard will be outside.”  
Gerard moved away to shuffle through their bags. Frank stood there, teeth chattering, watching Mikey and Gerard, and even Alicia putter around getting everything in place. Frank felt more than a little useless. He wasn’t sure what even needed to be done. He wished he’d paid more attention to Gerard when he’d been explaining things.  
“Change into these.” Gerard said, handing Frank an armful of clothes.  
Frank nodded and shuffled into the other room to change into what was a pair of loose-fitting shorts and one of Gerard’s old t-shirts. He pulled his hoodie back on over top. It was too cold to go without it. When he came back into the living room, Gerard had changed as well. Though he could somehow stand to be shirtless. When Frank moved back into his space, Gerard was burning up.  
“Can you feel it?” Gerard asked under his breath, “It’s tearing me the fuck apart…”  
Frank didn’t feel anything, though he didn’t know how to say so.  
  
They made their way down to the basement. Frank hadn’t noticed the smell before, but he certainly noticed it now, like rust and wet dog. He wandered into the wolf’s cage without waiting to be instructed. Mikey latched the door shut behind him.  
“What now?” Frank asked, glancing from Gerard to Mikey to Alicia.  
“Now we wait…” Mikey said, “I wanted to lock you up sooner because we don’t know how you’ll react yet.” Gerard reached his hand through the bars and Frank took it, kissing the back of his hand before linking their fingers together. They stared longingly into each other’s eyes. Gerard’s were starting to take on their pale yellow. Frank wondered what his own looked like.  
“No matter what happens…” Gerard said, clearing his throat, “I fucking love you, okay?”  
“I love you, too.” Frank said, feeling a lump form in his throat.  
He could admit that he was terrified. Gerard said the transition was painful. He wasn’t sure if he’d be aware of himself once he changed. And he’d wake up in the morning all covered in that mystery gore Gerard was always covered in. What even _was that shit?_  
He almost wished he’d asked Jamia for weed before he’d left the office. He could use a hit right about now...  
“Stop being so cute, you two, it’s disgusting.” Alicia said, passing Frank a bottle of whiskey? Yeah. Straight whiskey.  
“Take a swig.” Mikey instructed, “It’ll ease your nerves.”  
Frank did as he was told and tipped the bottle up to his lips. He passed the bottle back through the bars, grimacing as the alcohol burned its way down to his stomach. They each took turns swigging off the bottle until Frank was light-headed and nauseous.  
Gerard was fidgeting, making pained faces and scratching at himself.  
“Fuck.” Gerard hissed, “Okay, shit. I’m gonna… I gotta _go.”_  
Mikey got up to follow Gerard up the stairs.  
“I love you.” Gerard said again, from the top of the steps, “I’ll see you in the morning.”  
“See you.” Frank promised, clutching the confines of his cage.  
Frank sat on the cold, damp floor and listened intently as they went outside. He heard the front door slam behind them. He and Alicia stared at one another. She was listening, too, he realized. The front door closed again as Mikey came back inside.  
“I think you’re supposed to take your clothes off...” Alicia said, “Don’t wanna rip ‘em up.”  
“Right.” Frank said, pulling his hoodie off and stuffing it between the bars. His shirt followed, then the shorts. He couldn’t bring himself to pull his boxers off. Not in the presence of a lady. They would have to be a casualty of the moon.  
Frank noticed a small window, high up on the wall. He walked towards it, wondering if exposing his skin to the small beam of moonlight trickling through would speed up the process.  
  
Eventually he heard Gerard’s piercing howl. The sound made his blood run cold. Gerard had changed.  
Frank _hadn’t._  
“When do we admit defeat?” Frank asked, spinning around to look at Alicia. She just shrugged. They both looked up when they heard Mikey’s footsteps on the stairs.  
“The moon’s out. You should’ve changed by now.” Mikey said, “You _would’ve_ changed by now, if you were going to...”  
Frank watched him unlock the cage doors. He panicked for a second, worried there had been a delay and now he’d hurt them.  
“But…” Frank breathed, feeling the lump in his throat thicken as he backed towards the wall.  
"I mean, if you wanna hang out down here, we totally can." Mikey offered gently.  
And to Frank's embarrassment, he felt a tear slide down his cheek. Then another one. And another one. He tried to blink them away, but they kept coming. He felt an arm wrap around his shoulders and he leaned into it, feeling the tickle of Alicia's hair on his shoulder. He gazed back up at the sliver of moonlight coming in through the tiny window, not sure if the overwhelming feeling in his chest was relief or grief.


	30. Red

Mikey and Alicia were saints, Frank decided. Patron saints. Mikey, the patron saint of... wolves, presumably? Or maybe bath robes? As for Alicia, she was the patron saint of booze. She probably deserved to be the patron saint of something more interesting than booze, but Frank was a little too busy freaking out to assign her to something more grandiose.  
Mikey had slung a thick robe over his shoulders, which Frank had half-heartedly tied around his waist. Alicia had passed him the whiskey. He held it tightly in his shaking hands, trying his hardest to not drop it as the three of them made their way up the stairs and out of the basement. The last thing the basement needed was broken glass, it was already creepy enough with the giant cage, and the stench of wet dog and fear. He wasn’t sure if he was shivering from the cold or the shock. It was probably a little of both.  
Mikey shut the basement door behind the three of them. It closed with an echoey thud in the otherwise silent house. He ushered Frank through the kitchen, the sliding glass door, out to the outlook. Most of the lights were still off in the house. The moon’s pale white light shone brightly through the windows and illuminated everything enough that Frank could sort of find his way through the darkness. Mikey did most of the work anyways, leading Frank to sit with Alicia on the couch by the barred windows.  
Mikey lit three cigarettes and wordlessly passed them around. With a shaking hand Frank set down the bottle and accepted the burning cigarette. He numbly took a puff and flicked it over the ashtray on the coffee table in front of him, even though it hadn’t really accumulated enough ash to slough off.  
As Frank took a deep breath he realized he was acting. It wasn’t for Mikey and Alicia. He was trying to keep it together for himself. A drink and a smoke would probably suit him in an hour or so. For now, he felt too empty and confused, still waiting for the part where a wolf rose from his flesh and bone, like some fucked up variation on a phoenix rising from the ashes. The longing that had been sitting in the pit of his stomach all week long was still there, heavy like he’d eaten rocks. Nothing felt real except for the cold settling in around him.  
  
It was totally silent. Frank glanced towards the windows out at the tree line, the moon, and then back to Mikey and Alicia. They were both staring at him. Alicia, to his right, with a hand on his arm, looking concerned. Mikey was across the room, expression blank, paler than pale in the moonlight. They were both waiting for him to say something, Frank realized. Frank set his cigarette down in the ashtray to slowly fizzle out by itself.  
“This is-” Frank rasped, clearing his throat so he could speak up, “This is good, right?”  
“If you want my honest opinion, you dodged a fucking bullet.” Mikey offered.  
“I mean I agree…” Frank nodded, “But then… why am I so… _sad?”_  
The drying tears on his cheeks had gotten cold. It was cold in the window-lined room. The robe wasn’t nearly enough. Frank wanted his clothes. He wanted to lie in a warm bed with his too-warm boyfriend. But all of that would have to wait until the moon went away.  
He wrapped his arms around himself in an attempt to stay warm.  
Mikey seemed to get it and wandered inside to grab Frank a jacket. He returned a moment later and handed it over. Frank arranged the garment over top of the front of himself, pulling it up to just under his chin. He sunk down into the couch cushions and let out another deep breath.  
“We all got you pretty fucking worked up over this...” Mikey offered, “I’d probably be upset too.”  
“It _was_ pretty anticlimactic.” Alicia agreed.  
It wasn’t about any of that, but Frank nodded anyways.  
“This is _good..._ ” Frank said again, mostly to himself.  
“It is good.” Mikey agreed, “Gerard will be... _relieved._ He was pretty convinced he’d ruined your fucking life, Frank. I’m sure he’ll be happy to know he hasn’t yet.”  
“Yet...” Frank smiled, “You think?”  
“Yes. Absolutely.” Mikey said.  
Frank rose from the couch, pulling the coat over the bath robe. The sleeves of the robe dragged under the sleeves of the coat, bunching up at his elbows. It was uncomfortable, but Frank would’ve been uncomfortable no matter what. Reality was just fucking… _uncomfortable_ right now. He made no effort to fix the sleeves. He was sure he looked strange with his bathrobe, black coat, and tear-stained face.  
He took a few curious steps towards the nearest window. His eyes started their search for the wolf, before he even realized that was what he wanted. His gaze darted along the treeline, looking for any signs of movement. Much of the snow had melted into the surrounding fields. The moonlight glistened off of the mud and grass, still saturated with the snow melt. It was harder to look for the wolf’s tracks in the remaining patches of brown snow withering away in the shadows.  
He heard Mikey cross the room to stand beside him at the window.  
“Where does he usually go?” Frank asked, training his eyes along the roadside leading up into the forests.  
“Depends.” Mikey said, “He’s probably in the woods on the other side of the house... The wolf seems to like to run a lot when it first changes… I don’t know what’s over there. I’ve tried to figure it out on day hikes...”  
“Are you ever worried he won’t come back?” Frank asked.  
“I was at first.” Mikey offered, “He usually comes back long before the moon is down. You just have to remember, he’s not a _dog._ He’s… more than that. He’s okay out there by himself. No one is going to fuck with him.”  
Frank glanced over at Mikey. He was looking out along the treeline too. He must’ve detected Frank’s gaze because he glanced over at Frank and gave him a long, calculating look.  
“Are you okay?” he asked, pushing his glasses up his nose.  
“Yeah…” Frank nodded, “Or, I will be.”  
“I think so, too...” Mikey said, resting his forehead against the glass, “This really is for the best, Frank.”  
Frank bit his lip and nodded, then retreated to the couch, grabbing the whiskey before folding himself up next to Alicia.  
“You want a beer?” Mikey asked.  
Frank was about to say he already had plenty of booze but quickly realized Mikey was talking to his girlfriend. He took a swig of the whiskey, kept cold by the chilly room. Exhaling smoothly, he blinked as it burned down his throat. When he looked down, the bottle and the brown liquid inside of it were reflecting in the moonlight.  
It occurred to Frank that Alicia had never been to the cabin before. At least, not under these circumstances. The place was still pretty new to him as well. He glanced around the room, trying to picture it the way it had looked the first time he’d seen it. He heard Mikey disappear into the kitchen to retrieve beer. So maybe that made _him_ the patron saint of booze, not Alicia.  
“So uh…” Frank said, “Your boyfriend disappears once a month to lock his monster of a brother up in a cabin in the woods… That’s gotta be weird, right?”  
“You’re one to talk.” Alicia scoffed, “You’re boyfriend’s the one he’s locking up. Isn’t that weirder?”  
“Probably.” Frank agreed, “But it’s still new for you. I’m… getting used to it, I guess?”  
“I always wondered where the fuck he was going. He’s just such a bad liar, you know?” Alicia smiled, “When he told me… I didn’t really believe him at first. But he just like, doesn’t really joke about stuff. Not when it comes to Gerard.”  
Frank nodded, taking another long swig of whiskey.  
“I thought maybe he’d started some secret band and didn’t want me to come to practice.” Alicia continued in all seriousness.  
Mikey slipped back into the room to hand a beer to Alicia. They shared a look that Frank felt weird for including himself in on.  
“Secret band?” Mikey asked.  
“Yeah, the one we’re gonna start.” Alicia teased.  
“I’ve got to take care of a few things for the morning…” Mikey sighed.  
“I’ll watch the pup.” Alicia said, glancing over at Frank. It took him a moment to realize she was talking about him.  
“Frank if you need anything…” Mikey trailed off.  
“He’ll bark.” Alicia finished.  
Mikey nodded, suppressing a small twitch of a smile, and disappeared into the house again.  
“Pup?” Frank asked once the glass door slid shut behind him, almost taking offense at the pet name.  
“You’re still a pup if you wanna be...” Alicia shrugged, “But like, seriously dude, are you okay?”  
Frank took a deep breath before answering.  
“I mean… yeah?” he said eventually, glancing at his untouched cigarette still resting in the ash tray. He leaned forward and clamped it between his teeth, glancing around for a lighter.  
“It’s okay if you’re not okay.” Alicia said, handing her lighter over, “Just like, if you wanna talk about it…”  
Frank glanced up at Alicia as he took her lighter and sparked up, considering her offer. He was quiet for a moment, allowing himself to savor the cigarette. Once the taste was on the back of his tongue, he felt something inside him settle.  
“I might take you up on that, maybe.” Frank sighed, “Uh, later.”  
~  
  
“Playing cards?” Alicia asked, pen hovering over a scrap of paper.  
“No.” Frank slurred, shaking his head, “First of all those are for old people and children. But there’s already a deck in the front room, also...”  
“But _drinking games._ ” Alicia pointed out.  
To pass the moonlight hours, they’d been making a list of things they wanted to bring up to the cabin for the next full moon. Unbeknownst to the younger Way, ‘WIRELESS ROUTER’ was at the top of the list, circled and underlined. It hardly seemed fair that Mikey was the only one with internet access.  
The rest of the whiskey, a few beers, and several chain-smoked cigarettes had passed. He and Alicia were sitting on the kitchen floor in front of the fridge, to shorten the distance between themselves and the rest of the beer. At first Frank had just wanted to warm his numb fingers in the warm air blowing out of the vent underneath, but then the floor had just seemed most comfortable. This was, of course, after Frank had ditched the bathrobe in favor of real clothes.  
Mikey was off in the house somewhere, preparing for the morning. Frank would have to ask the younger way to show him everything when he was in a state to actually remember all of it. He figured he might have a future in pet sitting if he played his cards right.  
Mikey had popped a tape into the stereo system in the corner of the room, one of the times he’d come into the kitchen. Some punk band Frank didn’t recognize blared from the speakers. Frank suspected it was to mask the piercing howls that came from outside every now and then. Alicia didn’t seem to notice them at all. She wasn’t listening for them the way that Frank was, anyway.  
  
Frank wasn’t entirely sure how much of the whiskey he had personally consumed. The bottle hadn’t been all the way full in the first place, so at least he knew he hadn’t drunk all of it. He lowered himself further onto the floor, rolling around in search of a comfortable position, ending up on his back, staring up at the ceiling. He’d been too distracted to tell himself not to mix whiskey and beer. It never ended well. And it wasn’t until now that he realized Alicia had been _trying_ to get him drunk this entire time, but now, room spinning, it seemed so obvious. She’d been doing an excellent job of pacing him. The empties from the beers left in the fridge had grown in an even number. He was grateful for the accompaniment, even if he was at least half a bottle of whiskey ahead of her.  
Things would’ve gone so differently if it had just been him and Mikey, he realized idly.  
“So what do you think? Are you gonna stay up all night and wait for him?” Alicia asked.  
“I don’t know if I can.” Frank admitted, a little slurred, “But I don’t want to sleep either… What would you do if you were me?”  
“I cannot possibly answer that.” she laughed.  
  
“Okay so I know it’s selfish... “ Frank confessed, “But part of me wanted to be... _Like Gerard,_ you know? I wanted to be… Infected or whatever. I know that sounds bad.”  
He angled his head to glance over at Alicia. She set the pen down and lowered herself onto the floor, too, laying on her side so she could look at Frank.  
“Before me and Gerard… he just… he’s been with a lot of people.” Frank tripped over his words, not really sure how to summarize it, “Which isn’t a judgement, it’s just... _a fact._ And I don’t think I have any reason to feel threatened by that, but I just wanted something no one else could say they had with him. I thought, if we were in this together… maybe that feeling would go away? I _know_ how that sounds...”  
Alicia’s expression was unreadable as she listened. Maybe thoughtful, maybe disagreeing.  
“I mean, I wasn’t trying to get infected on purpose. Don’t get me wrong.” Frank amended quickly, “Gerard hates the moon so it must be just... awful. But I spent the last two weeks thinking it was happening to me, too, and after awhile the idea just kinda... _grew on me.”_  
“So getting cursed…” Alicia mused, “Was almost like a _baby fix?”_  
 _“Baby fix?”_ Frank frowned, feeling around for the half of a beer he’d left on the floor somewhere. He nearly knocked it over as his hand connected with it.  
“Well it’s like, sometimes, when a marriage isn’t going so well, women will get pregnant to try and fix it, you know?” Alicia explained, “It never works, but it’s like, if they just have a kid they never really have to sort out their problems, or even address them, really. It’s like, a way of forcing that commitment and distracting both parties. Cause who has time to figure out their emotional problems when they’re changing diapers, you know? More often than not the dude isn’t even interested in babies…. ”  
“Oh my God. This was a terrible analogy.” Alicia backtracked, taking in Frank’s horrified stare, “I just… wow. My friend Martha-  
“No, I think I get where you were going with that.” Frank said, sitting up enough to take another swallow of beer. A few dribbles rolled down his chin and soaked into his shirt anyways.  
“But I mean, you guys aren’t married. And I didn’t mean to suggest you have issues.” Alicia ranted, “And I’ve seen the way Gerard looks at you, Frank. He totally wants your puppies, no matter how strange and... _**implausible**_ that may be.”  
It had been awhile since Frank had blushed. Maybe he wasn’t blushing. Maybe it was just the alcohol warming his cheeks. It felt like someone had stolen the breath from his lungs. He nearly choked on his gulp of beer. He sat up the rest of the way to try and make himself breathe properly.  
“We _do_ have issues...” Frank pointed out in a wheezy voice.  
Frank had to look away, glancing out the windows at the moon again.  
“It’s okay to have issues.” Alicia said soothingly, “You work them out.”  
Frank didn’t have a response to that. Sure, working out their problems was an easy enough suggestion. Actually working them out didn’t feel so easy.  
“Mikey told me about the other part of the curse...” Alicia said, “The _bind._ ”  
“Yeah, um, _that_.” Frank said.  
“That’s something he doesn’t share with anyone else, isn’t it?” Alicia asked.  
“I mean, I didn’t say what I wanted was at all rational.” Frank said, “I know what we have is different. I just wanted to even the playing field. That’s all.”  
He paused to finish off his beer.  
“If we were both monsters…” he trailed off with a sigh, setting the bottle down and hugging himself, “I mean, I guess I'm a monster in my own way…”  
“Let me get you another.” Alicia said, lifting herself off the floor.  
She frowned as she stared into the fridge, rocking on her heels.  
“I totally can’t drive, but we could enlist Mikey to drive us to get some more?” Alicia suggested, “I think he said there was a gas station about 20 minutes into town? If he leaves now he might make it before they close...”  
The both froze as a piercing howl ripped through the otherwise quiet night. Frank bit his lip, listening for any other indication that Gerard was back. When had the tape ended? What time was it? The microwave above the stove said it was just past 9am, which had to be wrong. The sun wasn’t even up yet.  
“Was that…” Alicia trailed off in a low voice, listening intently as she stared at Frank.  
“It was.” Mikey said, appearing in the doorway to the kitchen again. He leaned against the doorframe. He had a faraway look in his eyes, like he was listening too.  
“Mikey, we messed up.” Alicia complained, when no other sounds came. She closed the refrigerator door and crossed the room to drape her arms around Mikey’s neck.  
“I probably agree but…” Mikey paused, “What are you talking about?”  
“Out of beer.” Alicia informed gravely.  
“We can’t leave until my brother changes back.” Mikey reminded gently, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead, “He’d tear us to shreds before we got to the car.”  
“I could make him change back?” Frank joked, turning away as Mikey pecked Alicia on the lips.  
“I’m sure Gerard would be delighted to change back early in the name of a fucking beer run.” Mikey laughed. He hadn’t meant anything by it, but Frank still felt a little stung anyways.  
He started milling through the refrigerator to distract himself. When he found nothing of interest in the fridge, he moved onto the freezer, immediately eyeing a bottle of vodka. He broke it out of a thick layer of frost with an icy hiss, and began looking for something they could chase it with.  
“What happens if you cut yourself while you’re cooking and like, need stitches?” Frank wondered aloud, “You can’t like, drive to the emergency room with him out there...”  
“Usually he’s locked up in the basement.” Mikey pointed out, “Besides, do I look like I cook in the middle of the fucking night on a regular basis? Microwave burritos, sure, but anything involving chop work?”  
“Valid point.” Frank nodded, “By the way, I found vodka.”  
Alicia floated back towards Frank and reached for the bottle, inspecting the label. He continued rifling through the cabinets looking for something to chase the booze with.  
“There’s not a chance you keep extra soda in the basement?” Frank asked, shutting the cabinet and turning to raise an eyebrow at Mikey.  
Mikey looked thoroughly unamused. Frank briefly considered handing him the bottle and insisting he chug it. The younger way needed it more than anyone, but someone had to be sober enough to help Gerard when he changed back at moonset. Frank would’ve loved to be that person but he was a few drinks past responsible.  
  
Frank filed into the den after Alicia. Mikey had built them a fire to help warm up the house faster than the small furnace in the far corner of the basement could work. Gerard had mentioned it needed updating.  
Mikey and Alicia took the couch. Frank curled up in a dusty old wing chair for a few moments, relishing in the warmth of the fire. The flickering light from the flames bounced off the bottle of liquor on the table in front of him. He wasn’t drunk enough to drink it straight, and when he thought about how much the room was spinning, realized he maybe didn’t need anymore to drink at all.  
“Mikey, what do you do when you’re up here?” Alicia asked, “There’s no cell reception. It’s so…”  
Frank waited patiently for her to finish her sentence, though as the seconds ticked by it didn’t seem like she was going to. He could think of some words for this place, but no one had asked him for them.  
Mikey sighed, burying his face in her neck.  
“I thought we’d have a second wolf to deal with.” Mikey explained, “I didn’t bring my laptop. I usually just work while I’m up here… Do you wanna play cards or something?”  
Alicia faked a gagging noise to express her disinterest. Frank tossed her a smirk.  
“You know, I’ve been coming here since before the internet.” Mikey pointed out, “There’s lots you can do without internet.”  
“You’re literally always online.” Alicia shot back.  
“I have a bass upstairs if you wanna play?” Mikey tried.  
“Too much work.” she complained.  
Frank tuned them out, finding himself drawn to the cold radiating from the drafty windows lining the wall on unsteady legs. He pulled a tattered blanket around his shoulders and fingered at the curtains covering the windows.  
He hadn’t noticed that the windows on the front of the house had bars on them as well, even though that made a lot of sense. The angle of the moon cast a long shadow across the muddy fields in the shape of the cabin. Snowbanks were tucked into the shadow of the house, where the sun didn’t hit as frequently. Frank squinted in the dark, doing the same check along the tree line, looking for any sign of movement. A few branches rustled at the edge of the clearing, drawing Frank’s attention. He held his breath as he waited for the wolf to emerge.  
He took a step back away from the windows as he noticed movement in his peripheral vision. Frank darted his gaze towards it and was met with a set of piercing yellow eyes, just above the nearest snowbank. The eyes were focused directly on him. The shadowy creature crawled over the browning snow, stalking towards the front porch, much more magnificent and terrifying than Frank had remembered it to be. He could barely make out its full outline in the shadows. It didn’t even blink as it gracefully sauntered up the front steps and onto the porch. It kept its head low as it sniffed at the air around it. It was inching closer to the windows. Thank fucking fuck for the bars.  
Frank was paralyzed in some strange place between terror and curiosity. He could admit he perhaps didn’t know the first thing about wolves, but the creature before him seemed much too large to pass as a common wolf. The fur was too dark, the eyes too bright, still glowing without the moonlight reflecting in them in them.  
Frank felt a hand close around his arm and it made him jump. Mikey pulled him back and snapped the curtain shut.  
“You’re familiar with little red riding hood, yes?” he asked, staring at Frank, “You realize you would be little red riding hood in this scenario, right?”  
“Well, yeah.” Frank started, “I just-”  
“He can’t get in here.” Mikey interrupted, “But he will certainly try. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve had to refinish the front door?”  
“Sorry.” Frank said, taking another step away from the windows and out of Mikey’s reach.  
“You have to… Gerard would just…” Mikey faltered, letting himself take a deep breath.  
“It’s alright to be curious.” Mikey amended, opening the curtain a few inches, “Alicia, did you wanna see?”  
Frank watched as Alicia crept up behind Mikey, standing on her tiptoes so she could peek through the window over his shoulder.  
“I didn’t mean to snap.” Mikey said quietly, “I’m just… still adjusting to having you both here. If it’s only me here, I have escape routes, battle plans... a gun full of silver bullets. If the wolf got in here right now I’d have to find some way to protect both of you and it’s more than a little… _stressful._ ” Alicia curled an arm around his middle as he spoke.  
“Are you scared of him?” Mikey asked, “I’m not.”  
“I’m… sort of scared of him.” Alicia said, answering before Frank could even think of an answer.  
“I’m too drunk to be scared.” Frank decided on.  
Mikey smiled at him fondly.  
“Just try to not draw him towards the house like that.” Mikey shrugged.  
Frank crept forward and peered through the curtains. He knew it was just the beer talking, but the temptation to step out onto the porch and call Gerard’s name was driving him crazy. He didn’t want to wait any more. He wanted Gerard to scoop him up in his too-warm arms and tell him it was alright if Frank wasn’t a wolf, too. He wanted Gerard to kiss him until it didn’t matter who was what anymore.  
Frank realized he was still hurting over this, after everything. He let himself sigh, let the disappointment wrap around him like a wet blanket.  
“Sorry, I just…” Frank trailed off, unable to find the words. He slipped away from the window, still hearing the wolf’s claws clacking on the wooden planks out on the porch.  
“It’s okay to be curious.” Mikey reiterated.  
“I think I should go lay down.” Frank suggested, still listening for any other indications of the beast outside.  
“Sure.” Mikey nodded, “You need anything?”  
“Nothing a little shut eye can’t fix.” Frank said, heading for the stairs.  
“Goodnight Frank.” Alicia called after him, “Dream of puppies.”  
Frank heard Mikey quietly asking her what the fuck she was talking about as he dragged himself up the first couple of stairs. He hadn’t realized he wanted to be alone until he was. He felt around for a lightswitch along the wall, but his fingers never connected with one. He’d look for it in the morning so he could stop wandering the house in the dark like his creature-of-the-night boyfriend. He rounded the corner and tried to remember which room it had been. He opened a few wrong doors before he found the room he wanted. He left the lights off, even after he’d closed the door behind him. Enough moonlight came spilling through the windows for him to make his way. He sat on the edge of the bed, mind still spinning from having seen the wolf again.  
  
It hadn’t even _growled_ at him.  
  
Frank was no expert, but the wolf hadn’t seemed like it was looking to swallow him up. Maybe that was exactly what it wanted Frank to think. He still couldn’t believe Mikey had compared him to little red riding hood. He hoped that had been a joke. That was ridiculous. He’d recognize a wolf dressed in his grandmother’s clothing any fucking day of the week, drunk or not.  
He got up and walked over to the windows, almost surprised to find the wolf was still at the front of the house. It had laid itself out on the nearest snowbank, head resting on top of it’s paws. It wouldn’t be able to notice Frank as easily from the second floor, but Frank made a point to move the curtains more carefully so as not to attract it’s attention. Frank watched the creature with burning curiosity.  
He couldn’t figure out what the fuck it was doing. It laid there, unmoving, staring at the front of the house. Frank wasn’t sure how long he stood there, watching the creature, before it got up and started to pace.  
Some part of him told him he should maybe be afraid. Maybe the thing was looking for a way into the house so it could tear them to shreds. Even if he could stop it from hurting anyone, being hunted was still being hunted.  
He backed away from the windows as the creature glanced up to the second story. He collapsed onto the bed, pulling a quilt around himself. The last time he’d been in this bed, Gerard had been all over him, telling him how good he tasted. It would only be a few more hours before Gerard turned back and they could do it all over again. Frank held onto the thought of pulling Gerard close as sleep pulled him in.  
~  
  
Frank’s eyes shot open. He hadn’t meant to sleep so hard, if he could even call the last couple of hours sleep. He was still sort of residually drunk, still fully-clothed. Why had he slept in his jeans? Seriously? A wave of nausea crashed over him as he made the mistake of sitting up too quickly.  
He made a dash for the bathroom and immediately emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet. There wasn’t much to empty out, so he found himself dry-heaving for a long time. The sounds of his body trying to turn itself inside out seemed incredibly loud in the otherwise quiet house. In between bouts of retching he listened for indications that anyone else might be awake.  
He leaned over the toilet, trying to spit away the bitter taste in the violet-grey light, panting and miserable. He hadn’t meant to drink so much. He’d just wanted to be comfortably numb, but now he was uncomfortable and could feel everything twice as much, which hardly seemed like a fair trade. But since when was anything ever fair?  
Leaning his weight over the sink, Frank splashed some water over his face first, letting himself breathe through the chill. He swished some around in his mouth as well to try and get the bitter taste out. His mouth still felt pickled, like his tongue had been floating in a bottle of whiskey overnight, which, _ew._  
He avoided looking at himself in the mirror. He didn’t want to know. He ran a hand through his hair to mess it up first, then smooth it back down.  
If the sun was on it’s way up, that meant the moonrise would be over soon. Frank darted over to the window to try and find the wolf, but he couldn’t see the snow banks from where he was standing.  
On shaky legs, he made his way downstairs, hugging the wall as he descended the stairs. The fire was out, but the room still smelled of wood smoke. The bottle of vodka was still sitting on the coffee table, untouched. Thank fucking God Frank hadn’t tried to drink any of it. He listened carefully for any signs Mikey was awake, but the house was completely still.  
“Mikey?” he asked, voice hoarse, floating over to the front windows to pull back the curtains. He tried to clear his throat, but it only made his voice more crackly.  
“Oh.” he rasped.  
The creature was on the front porch, head rested on its paws. It lifted its head as it noticed Frank. He hovered by the window, staring back at the beast.  
“Hey.” He mouthed at it, quickly realizing it probably didn’t understand him. His breath fogged up the glass.  
The wolf twitched a few times and slumped to one side. Its fur began to slough off in patches, taking flesh with it. It contorted into a smaller and smaller ball, crying out as its bones snapped. This was seriously so fucked up, what the fuck. The mass of fur and blood and flesh and bone grew more and more Gerard-shaped as it folded in on itself until it was just Gerard.  
The sound of the locks turning on the front door startled Frank. He glanced to his left to find Mikey unlocking the front door, towel in hand.  
The warm air was sucked out of the room as Mikey opened the door and went out to bring Gerard in. Frank shivered as he watched his bloody, naked boyfriend stumble into the house. The towel around Gerard’s shoulders didn’t seem to cover it. Mikey closed and locked the door behind them.  
“Where’s Frank?” Gerard asked.  
“Uh, hi.” Frank said hoarsely, clearing his throat again to make his presence known.  
Gerard glanced over, face changing unrecognizably under the gore. Frank wanted to go over and hug him, but he could just imagine the stains. He found himself moving towards Gerard anyways, stopping short as he examined the blood more closely. A very distinct smell came wafting off Gerard, like rust and wet dog. Frank’s stomach turned.  
“I have to uh, get cleaned up.” Gerard said, his voice light and scratchy with exhaustion, and perhaps a hint of embarrassment. He beckoned for Frank to follow him, and Frank obeyed, floating after Gerard into the bathroom. There was a stack of towels waiting on the bathroom counter. All part of the routine, Frank guessed.  
Gerard leaned over to start the shower, cursing under his breath as he got a smear of blood on the shower curtain when he pulled it back.  
“I’m gonna make coffee.” Mikey said, closing the door behind them.  
The smell was stronger in the confines of the small bathroom. The pounding water made Frank's head hurt. He leaned against the bathroom door for support, closing his eyes and swallowing hard.  
“You don’t have to stay in here.” Gerard said, “I’m sure I’m a vegan’s worst nightmare right about now.”  
When Frank opened his eyes again Gerard was close, eyeing him worriedly.  
“What did you drink?” Gerard asked with a tiny smirk.  
“Everything.” Frank answered weakly.  
Gerard reached out a hand to touch him and pulled it back, glancing down at the drying blood. He flipped his hand over to examine further.  
“Hold that thought.” Gerard said, turning back towards the shower. Frank watched him climb in, cursing more as another smear of blood made its way onto the shower curtain.  
Gerard poked his head out a few seconds later, droplets of reddish brown water slipping down his otherwise pale and identifiable face.  
“You could come in, if you want to.” Gerard said, “You don’t have to stand there.”  
“Oh...” Frank said, tugging on the zipper of his sweatshirt.  
“But you don’t have to.” Gerard added.  
If Frank had been in his right mind, he may have declined, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d longed for physical contact like this. He stripped off the rest of his clothes and climbed into the shower.  
The gore had mostly melted away. As soon as Frank was under the warm spray, he helped Gerard get the rest of it off, running his hands over Gerard’s skin until he was nothing but pale again. The blood circled the drain. The smell was replaced by something vague and perfumed - whatever soap Gerard had started to lather up.  
As soon as he was mostly cleaned off he pulled Frank close. Frank was relieved to be in Gerard’s arms again, skin on skin. He kissed Frank, gently, carefully.  
“Miss me?” Gerard asked.  
“You left me alone with Mikey.” Frank complained quietly, resting his head on Gerard’s shoulder.  
“Seems like you did alright.” Gerard smiled.  
“He called me little red riding hood.” Frank pouted.  
Gerard let out a breath of a laugh as he ran his hands over Frank’s back.  
“ _Don’t laugh._ ” Frank scolded.  
“I just… hadn’t thought about that one before.” Gerard said, “You do look cute in red.”  
“I do _not._ ” Frank protested.  
“That red cardigan you wear to work sometimes…” Gerard pointed out, hugging Frank closer.  
“I hate you.” Frank informed.  
Gerard hummed happily. He turned his head to kiss Frank’s cheek.  
“Listen… I wanted…” Frank trailed off.  
“Wanted what?” Gerard asked gently.  
“I wanted to be infected.” Frank admitted quietly, “I know why it’s better this way. But I wanted to change with you...”  
“I know.” Gerard said quietly, “I kinda wanted it, too.”  
Frank turned his face away as his lips twitched into a private smile. Gerard probably wouldn’t admit to it again, so Frank told himself to remember that he’d admitted it at all.  
Gerard reached up and tilted Frank’s face back towards his and kissed him slowly, carefully.  
  
They didn’t bother getting dressed after their shower. They trailed shower water all the way up the stairs, with towels loosely covering them.  
The sun had come up over the grey skies, and the light felt like daggers in Frank’s eyes.  
Gerard stopped to kiss Frank in the doorway. Frank was thankful for the excuse to close his eyes. He dragged Gerard the rest of the way into the room so he could lock the door behind them.  
“I can barely taste you...” Gerard said quietly, sucking on Frank’s neck, “You’re too clean.”  
Frank still felt disgustingly hungover, so he couldn’t imagine what there could possibly be that Gerard wanted to taste. It felt like his entire body was made out of poison. He tried to focus on breathing as a wave of nausea hit.  
They were still dripping as Gerard pulled Frank into bed with him. Frank could feel the beads of shower water soak into the sheets. Gerard pulled a quilt over top of them.  
Frank blinked in the dim underneath the quilt. Gerard was kissing him all over. He had already worked his way down to Frank’s ribs, and was pressing his lips all over Frank’s skin.  
“Gerard, slow the fuck down.” Frank commanded weakly, biting his lip against another wave of nausea.  
“Sorry.” Gerard said in between slow kisses, “ _Sorry, Frank._ ”  
“It’s nice…” Frank amended, brushing Gerard’s damp hair out of his face, “I just don’t want to fucking puke on you.”  
“Hot.” Gerard smirked.  
Frank frowned.  
Gerard crawled back up to peck Frank on the lips.  
“I’m sorry I’m just so fucking relieved.” Gerard explained breathlessly, “You’re still… just _you._ ”  
He collapsed at Frank’s side and wrapped an arm around his middle to pull him closer. Frank’s heart fluttered as Gerard buried his face in the crook of his neck and inhaled deeply. They were quiet then, tangled up in each other under the covers, nursing the wounds leftover from the full moon.  
“I’ve been thinking…” Gerard started quietly, “I wanted you to meet my parents...”  
“Yeah?” Frank asked.  
“Well, yeah. Like I already met your mom.” Gerard explained, “But...”  
“But not as my boyfriend?” Frank finished.  
“Well _that._ ” Gerard agreed, “We should do that. But, no, actually what I meant is it’s just like… she’s gonna ask how we met, right?”  
“Oh.” Frank said.  
“And I _can_ lie to my mom, actually. Sort of.” Gerard smiled, “I don’t have to tell her… _how we met._ But it made me realize…”  
Frank wasn’t following and he wasn’t going to pretend to try. But Gerard would get to his point eventually if Frank waited him out.  
“People are going to ask.” Gerard said, “For as long as we’re together, people will ask.”  
“You can lie.” Frank offered, “I don’t care.”  
“Well if we’re going to lie, I want our lies to match up.” Gerard explained, pressing a kiss to Frank’s shoulder.  
“Mikey set us up.” Frank supplied easily, “That’s not even a lie, really.”  
“But you left in the first five minutes of our first date...” Gerard pointed out.  
“Yeah, cause you’re an _asshole._ ” Frank scoffed, “But that’s the part where you start the lie.”  
“Okay…” Gerard said, “So I’m lying... I’m not an asshole and in the first five minutes of our first date you were so blown away by how interesting and great I am that you asked me right away if I wanted to go home with you and be your boyfriend forever.”  
Frank laughed. When he turned to face Gerard, Gerard was smiling, too.  
“Wow. Fuck you.” Frank said.  
“My mom knows I’m an asshole.” Gerard explained, “She’d see right through me.”  
“Does she know what you are?” Frank asked.  
“No. I’ve never told her.” Gerard said.  
“Does she know you’re gay?” Frank asked.  
“She figured me out pretty early on, yeah.” Gerard smiled.  
“So she won’t be surprised…” Frank trailed off.  
“No. I think she’ll like you a lot actually.” Gerard said, “They both will.”  
“I don’t know.” Frank sighed, “I’m not so good with parents… I’m sure yours are lovely but… Parents fucking terrify me.”  
“Dating a fucking monster… no problem.” Gerard scoffed, “Meeting my completely normal human parents on the other hand…”  
“Shut up.” Frank commanded.  
“Make me, _red._ ” Gerard tested.  
“R- _Oh, you’re so dead._ ” Frank informed.  
“What? It’s a cute nickname!” Gerard protested.  
“I’ll show you _red._ ” Frank threatened, tackling Gerard, pinning his arms above his head.  
“What big eyes you have…” Gerard said, gazing up at Frank.  
“ _The better to fucking kill you with._ ” Frank growled.  
“That’s not how the story goes.” Gerard teased.  
“Thank fuck this isn’t a fairytale.” Frank scoffed, “I don’t want to be eaten by a wolf crossdressing as my grandmother.”  
“You have a funny way of showing it.” Gerard said.  
“I know I do.” Frank smiled, leaning down to press his lips to Gerard’s.  
  
 **~End**


	31. Afterword: New Years Day

_Two Years And Several Months Later..._  
  
“Have you ever thought about dying your hair some other color?” Frank asked, sectioning off another tuft of Gerard’s hair and stroking the application brush over the dark brown roots. With gloved hands, he worked the midnight black dye out to ends of Gerard’s hair carefully. He'd moved onto the next section of hair before Gerard answered.  
“I like it black.” was all Gerard said.  
Frank snorted and dipped the brush into the bowl of dye. The smell wafted up as he leaned over and he inhaled deeply at the familiarity of the chemicals.  
“Why?” Gerard asked, “Some other color you have in mind?”  
“What about like…” Frank faltered, “What about like fire engine red?”  
“No way.” Gerard said, letting out a breath of a laugh. He turned the page of his comic book. Frank knew he was still paying attention, though.  
“But it’s the color of blood.” Frank offered neutrally, working his fingers through Gerard’s hair, “You _love_ blood.”  
“It wouldn’t look good on me.” Gerard said simply.  
“How do you know?” Frank asked, “Have you ever done anything other than black?”  
“Mmm, a long time ago...” Gerard hummed thoughtfully, “I’ll think about it, Frankie. Maybe next time I’m due for a touch up we can experiment.”  
“Okay.” Frank agreed.  
He smiled, embracing his tiny victory, and moved onto the next section of hair.  
  
As soon as the dye was done processing, Frank followed Gerard into the shower to help him rinse it out. Gerard didn’t need help with that part, of course - had never needed help with that part in all his years - but he let Frank help anyways. They kissed under the warm spray until the black water circling the drain had faded all the way to clear.  
As soon as they were dressed and mostly dry, they headed out into the night.  
It was New Year’s Day. They’d gone to a party together the night before, and had planned to spend the day alone together recovering and relaxing. Both of them had a few days off on account of the holiday. Cleaning and other miscellaneous errands would have to wait. Frank was still sort of vaguely hungover, though the headache had gone away at some point during their shower.  
Bundled in several layers of flannels, a sweater, a coat, and two pairs of gloves each, they took the train downtown to Union Square.  
  
Union Square was crowded with the leftovers from the holiday. Families and couples and groups of friends meandered the few open shops, nursing hot cocoa and roasted nuts.  
“Do you have any New Year’s Resolutions?” Frank asked, glancing off down the sidewalk.  
“I’d like to spend more time drawing...” Gerard said, “And I’d like to… be _braver,_ I guess?”  
“Braver?” Frank asked.  
“Yeah.” Gerard said, not elaborating further.  
Frank shrugged it off.  
“What about you?” Gerard asked.  
“I don’t know.” Frank answered, “I need to find a new hobby, I think.”  
  
They called it _Hide and Seek_ , though the name wasn’t entirely accurate.  
The rules were a little different.  
Because Frank was always the one to hide.  
And Gerard was always the one to seek.  
They’d agree upon a time limit and a wager. If Gerard found Frank before the time was up, he’d win. If he didn’t find Frank before the time was up, Frank would win. And most importantly: Gerard had to find Frank entirely by his sense of smell.  
  
“Tonight’s wager?” Gerard asked, puffing on a smoke and passing it over to Frank.  
“I don’t have anything in mind.” Frank said, fumbling to not burn his gloves on the cigarette, “What were you thinking?”  
“Well…” Gerard mused, “Okay. If you win, you can dye my hair whatever color you want?”  
“And if _you_ win?” Frank gulped.  
  
“You have to spend _the rest of your life_ with me.” Gerard said evenly.  
  
Frank looked up at Gerard then. Fuck burning his gloves. He wasn’t sure what the fuck his face was doing, but he tried to keep his expression as blank as possible.  
It wasn’t exactly the proposal Frank had been looking for. He wasn’t even fully sure he’d heard Gerard right. But Frank wasn’t one to look a fucking gift horse in the mouth. If this was how he got what he wanted, he was going to _fight for it._ Or, well, apparently he was going to pretend to fight against it for the sake of their game.  
“What do you say?” Gerard prompted. Frank could detect the nervousness in his voice then. He was trying to play it cool but Frank saw right through it.  
“You’re on.” Frank smiled, pulling his hood up and taking off. He realized as he leapt away from Gerard that they hadn’t agreed on a time limit, but there was no turning back now. He headed south towards Chinatown, and he took Gerard’s cigarette with him.  
  
He was out of breath within a block. The cigarette wasn’t helping. He flicked it into the gutter and slowed to a brisk walk, panting as he looked around for the nearest subway entrance.  
He didn’t really have a grandiose plan for tonight’s game. He was so stunned by their wager that he was having a hard time coming up with a solid plan even now. His heart was beating a mile a minute.  
Depending on how cold it was, Frank would typically get anywhere between 30 to 45 minutes to hide. It got harder to follow Frank’s scent if it was any longer than an hour, but that was just fine by Frank. 45 minutes could get him halfway to Coney Island if he got on the subway immediately. Not that he was headed for Coney Island tonight. Maybe in the Summer. Waiting for Gerard to find him on a dark beach in the dead of winter didn’t sound very nice. Especially if he wanted a ring on his finger.  
Metaphorical ring, of course.  
Gerard hadn’t gotten… an actual ring? _Had he?_  
Taking the subway was also totally against the rules. As were busses and taxis. Bicycles were okay for some reason. Gerard could still follow Frank’s scent like that. They’d experimented with that last summer.  
Automated transportation complicated things way too much, but that didn’t mean Frank didn’t like to cheat sometimes. Gerard had learned this about him pretty quickly. Tonight wasn’t a cheating kind of night. Frank wasn’t in the mood. He took the steps down to the subway, payed his fare, and headed for the platform for the uptown trains. He wandered up and down the platform to confuse Gerard and look for cellphone reception. As soon as he found it, he sent a text to Gerard.  
“ _45 minutes_ ” was all it said.  
He tried to think quickly, deciding on a place to end up. There were bars and restaurants all the way up Manhattan that they had frequented over the time they’d been together. Frank could go into any of them and wait out the rest of the time.  
He tried to think of what might be the most romantic. He considered waiting for Gerard at the coffee shop where they’d had their miserable first date. He wasn’t sure they’d be open this late.  
He considered Gerard’s favorite comic book shop. It was open late, and it was just around the corner. Frank could work in a spiral around Union Square and make his way back into the comic shop.  
It still seemed too easy. An old lady was waiting for the subway beside Frank. He turned to her and considered asking her for advice, but he couldn’t think of a graceful way to explain why he would be trying to hard to hide from someone who had just proposed to him, if he intended to tell them ‘yes.’ The old lady scowled suspiciously at him anyways, so Frank turned and headed for the steps back up to the street level.  
Gerard would spend a good amount of time trying to guess which train Frank had taken, so he’d bought himself some extra time if he was lucky. There was always the chance, of course, that Gerard would figure it out and not even go down into the subway at all, because Frank’s scent was still trailing behind him, out of the subway again.  
Frank wandered uptown, looking for a starbucks. If he was going to be out in the cold, he needed something warm in his hands. They should’ve gotten coffee before they started.  
He went over to 5th and then up Broadway. Broadway would take him straight to Times Square if he kept walking. Frank considered working some kind of zigzag pattern up the streets, or even walking along the riverside. There was a breeze going, which would blow his scent away and distort it, but walking next to the icy breeze coming up off the river would also be fucking cold.  
Frank ordered a Soy Latte two sizes two big and waited impatiently. It was mostly to warm his hands, he wouldn’t be drinking half of it.  
He ended up going straight up Broadway. The trail would likely confuse Gerard, but Frank was only capable of so much planning. He’d run out of tricks to play a long time ago.  
He drank his latte and made his way up Manhattan, looping through Madison Square Park, and wandering into the Manhattan mall. It was getting close to time for Gerard to start seeking and Frank was still a few blocks away from Times Square. The closer he got, the more sure he was that he wanted to wait for Gerard there. Even though the New Year festivities had gone on the night before, there would still be plenty of tourists and romantics to distort his scent. Times Square was an unpleasant place to wait, but it wouldn’t be easy for Gerard, either. All the smells and sounds and lights would make Frank harder to find.  
Frank thought, as he continued to sip his latte, that this was starting to feel like the longest 45 minutes of his life. Every time he thought about what was at stake, his heart started beating faster.  
Normal boyfriends probably didn’t make their boyfriends walk in the dead of winter for forty five minutes if they intended to marry them. Then again, Frank liked Gerard because he wasn’t a normal boyfriend.  
Frank’s phone buzzed in his pocket.  
“ _you took the subway._ ” Gerard’s text read, “ _thats cheating._ ”  
Frank’s phone buzzed with another text.  
“ _o. nevermind._ ” Gerard had written.  
The wolf was officially hot on Frank’s trail. He wasn’t sure why he was so nervous. Frank quickened his pace, passing groups of families leaving fancy midtown restaurants Frank and Gerard could never afford. They had better things to spend their money on anyways.  
Frank could see the glowing signs of times square. The winter wind had picked up, and his cheeks were starting to numb in the cold. He pressed on, eyes flitting to the street numbers as they got larger and larger.  
There were still signs of the turn of the year everywhere Frank looked. Confetti and glitter was all over the sidewalk, tucked into every minor chip and crack in the sidewalk underneath his feet. Gerard had said his resolution was to be braver. Had he meant about asking Frank to marry him?  
Gerard was always slow to talk about his feelings. Maybe he’d been wanting to ask Frank for awhile? The binding curse had forced them both to consider the reality of being together forever early on. Gerard had always said Frank could leave him if he ever decided he wanted to. Frank treated the situation as though he was bound into it, too, never once thinking of leaving as a possibility.  
Gerard had been nothing but good to him. Frank didn’t want to leave.  
Frank wandered into Times Square. The lights on the screens surrounding him were as bright as day. He hated it. He hated the tourists. He hated the blaring hat off to capitalism. It didn’t help that it was freezing cold and loud.  
His phone’s battery was running down, too. He kept checking the time every couple of minutes.  
Frank wandered into the slow-moving crowds in an attempt to disguise himself. He lit a cigarette to keep himself occupied. His eyes landed on the neon sign in the window of a bar. He briefly thought about going in to get out of the cold, but decided against it. He didn’t want Gerard to find him in a bar.  
Gerard didn’t have much time left. Frank was sort of getting nervous. This was unusual. Gerard usually won when Frank played by the rules.  
Frank kept wandering in circles, torn between trying to hide, and looking for Gerard in the crowd.  
The minutes kept ticking by...  
Gerard was really about to fuck this up. Frank had nothing to lose, he supposed. He’d get to dye Gerard’s hair a weird color if he lost, and Gerard would have to live with it fair and square.  
Frank finished his cigarette and dropped it onto the pavement. He started looking for a trash can so he could trash the rest of his drink. It had gotten cold.  
Frank checked his phone again. Gerard had 3 minutes. _Three fucking minutes._  
As Frank stuffed his phone back in his pocket, someone ran right into him, making Frank drop the rest of his cold latte.  
“Watch it, asshole!” Frank barked, even though he hadn’t wanted the rest of the drink anyways.  
Gerard laughed, loud and bright, and pulled Frank into his arms.  
“C _utting it close, Gee_.” Frank said, startled, fumbling to hug Gerard back. He felt himself blush as he realized what this meant. Gerard buried his face in Frank’s scarf.  
People were walking past them on all sides, making wider and wider girths around them.  
Gerard pressed his lips hard against Frank’s, and hugged him tighter, squeezing the breath right out of Frank’s lungs.  
“You don’t want me to dye your hair that bad, huh?” Frank laughed breathlessly.  
“Shut up.” Gerard said, pulling away enough to look at Frank, “ _Marry me._ ”  
“Okay.” Frank said.  
“Is that a ‘yes?’” Gerard asked.  
“I lost...” Frank said, “So…”  
“But you want this, right?” Gerard asked.  
“Yes.” Frank nodded.  
“Thank God…” Gerard breathed, “I was worried getting married wasn’t punk or something.”  
Gerard pulled one arm away and started digging around in his pocket. He pulled out a tiny box and wrestled to open it with his gloves on.  
“Put that shit away.” Frank instructed, “I’m not taking my fucking gloves off for that shit.”  
“Okay.” Gerard said, shoving the box back in his pocket.  
They kissed again, and again, and again.  
“It’s not punk.” Frank explained, “But, _Gerard_... I’d do anything for you. Punk or not.”  
“That’s reassuring.” Gerard said sarcastically.  
“I had no fucking _idea..._ ” Frank said breathlessly, “No fucking idea at all you’d ever ask…”  
“That was kinda the point. I wanted it to be a surprise.” Gerard said, “You’re the hardest person to surprise, you know that? All those fucking horror movies…”  
“You’ll put up with that for the rest of your life?” Frank wondered.  
“If you can be unpunk for the rest of yours, I think I’ll manage the horror just fine…” Gerard said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. <3


End file.
